


The Cup of Life

by Marcus_S_Lazarus



Category: Merlin (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Holy Grail, Stealth Crossover, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23561665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marcus_S_Lazarus/pseuds/Marcus_S_Lazarus
Summary: When demons acquire a dangerous ancient artefact, Castiel must take Dean and Sam back to recruit the aid of the only person capable of destroying the item in question...
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 48
Kudos: 88





	1. The Mission

**Author's Note:**

> For 'Supernatural', this is set in Season Six, at a point when Sam's soul has been restored and the Winchesters think that Crowley is dead, and are presently unaware of Castiel's secret agenda. For 'Merlin' this takes place between Seasons Three and Four (Probably closer to Three than Four), with Arthur currently regent while Uther is in a near-catatonic state after his daughter's betrayal, and Morgana and Morgause are missing

"All I'm saying, Sammy, is that at least we got a simple one," Dean said, as they slung the last of their equipment into the boot of the Impala.

"What does it say about our lives when a werewolf is 'simple'?" Sam countered, looking over at Dean with a pointed stare.

"Well, it was," Dean replied, smiling at his brother. "The guy deliberately changed in places where he'd go after people he had a grudge against and didn't show any signs of wantin' to stop; one of the most clear-cut cases we've ever had."

"Yeah, I know..." Sam said, shaking his head wistfully at the thought as he sat down in the passenger seat of the Impala, staring out at the road in front of him as Dean sat down in the driver's seat.

Hunting had never exactly been easy, but it seemed like it had only become slightly easier since he'd returned from the Cage and they'd averted the Apocalypse; the Arachne and dragons had been more challenging than the conventional monsters they'd faced, but at the same time they were still just monsters at heart...

He just wished that dealing with everything else that had come up during the crisis could have been solved as easily. With Adam still stuck in the Cage after they'd exhausted whatever favours they could pull with whatever higher powers were able to help them, Dean's collapsing relationship with Lisa, and everyone he'd let down during that hunt when he was soulless, Sam was starting to feel like hunting had lost whatever 'black and white' it had possessed.

He'd known that things in the hunting game weren't as simple as Gordon had claimed they were back when they'd first met him- Lenore might have proven him right, but she'd hardly been the only evidence needed; what about those ghosts who were acting to avenge secret crimes or protect abuse victims, even if some of them still went about it the wrong way?-, but after the year he'd had, he'd just like to tackle a few hunts where there was a clear-cut way of doing the right thing that would exclusively focus on them saving people rather than having to sacrifice some people or failing to save others in order to stop the big threat.

The werewolf thing had been a good example of what he wanted to accomplish, but they'd still arrived too late to save the werewolf's earlier victims, even if he'd clearly been a monster; was it asking too much to have _one_ crisis where they could just stop the bad guy and save innocent people?

"Hello."

" _Whoa_!" Dean yelled, slamming on the brakes as he turned around to look at the back of the Impala, taking in the sight of the Winchesters' familiar angelic ally sitting casually in the back seat as though he'd been there since they started driving.

"Damnit, Cas, would it kill you to call rather than pop in like that?" Dean said, glaring in frustration at his friend.

"Things are reaching a crisis point," Castiel said. "I did not have time to find my phone, and your help is needed if we are going to avert this latest potential problem."

"Really?" Sam said, turning around to look at their friend as Dean parked the car on the side of the road; the angel might be frustrating at times, but if he thought that something was urgent, it was probably important. "What's up, Cas?"

"A demon has acquired the Cup of Life," Castiel replied, looking solemnly between the two brothers.

"The what?" Sam asked, looking at the angel in confusion.

"I believe you would know it better as the Holy Grail," Castiel clarified.

"Oh, thanks- the Holy _what_?" Dean said, looking at the angel with new interest.

"The Holy Grail," Castiel repeated, looking at Dean with that quizzical expression the angel always assumed when he wasn't entirely sure if he'd made a social gaffe of some kind.

"No, hold on, _the_ Holy Grail?" Dean said, still looking like he was having trouble processing what he'd just heard. "The cup Jesus drank from at the last supper, the focus of the greatest quest of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, _Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade_ , all that?"

"I am not at liberty to divulge the origins of the Cup of Life," Castiel said, looking over at the older Winchester in a firm manner that put them in mind of the way he'd refused to answer questions back when the brothers had first met him.

"Jesus a complicated topic or something?" Dean asked, trying to sound more casual about it than he felt; even after everything else they'd dealt with since they'd learned that angels existed, Jesus was one area that they had yet to really ask many questions about.

"Or something," Castiel said, nodding briefly at Dean before he continued speaking, his tone making it clear that he wasn't going to indulge their curiosity on that front. "What is important right now is that the Cup has fallen into demonic hands, and they are using it to create an army of undead warriors-"

"Hold on; _undead_?" Sam repeated. "I thought the Grail was a holy artefact-"

"As I said, the Cup's origins are... complicated," Castiel said. "When a drop of blood is added to the Cup, and a specific ritual is performed, the Cup has the power to transform the subject of the blood that was added to it into an immortal, undead warrior, loyal to the person who performed the ritual and blind to all other past allegiances."

"Ah," Sam said, looking dejectedly over at Dean. "Well, that sucks..."

"If it helps, anyone using the Cup in such a manner can only use it on a willing subject; the warriors they create may not be fully aware of what will happen to them if their blood is added to the Cup, but they would have to be willing to serve the Cup's bearer to receive its benefits," Castiel explained. "It would enslave humans, but if used on a demon- a demon whose host had already been destroyed or consumed by the demon's presence within them-, the demon will be enhanced beyond all reason, immune to traditional methods of exorcism and capable of power on a level that only Azazel would have been able to match before now."

"Oh," Dean said, looking over at Sam with a grim expression.

They might have moved on since the days when the demon who killed Mary Winchester was their biggest problem, but he would always be remembered as one of their most dangerous adversaries; the thought of facing an army of demons operating on Azazel's power level...

"Well... we can stop it, right?" Sam asked, looking back at the angel. "I mean, we can empty the Cup-"

"The demons who have discovered it are already preparing rituals to elevate the Cup's power to a point where simply putting the blood in the cup will be all they need; _keeping_ the blood in the Cup will just be optional," Castiel explained. "It is protected by anti-angel sigils so that we cannot retrieve it ourselves, and even if we did so many of the necessary rituals to change its nature have been completed that there is no place that we could hide it that would be safe from both sides; the only way to prevent the Cup from being abused further is to destroy it."

Sam had no idea how to feel about that.

He had vague memories of luring Cas to him by claiming to have found the Ark of the Covenant in a prayer at one point, and now the guy was telling them to destroy the cup of Christ (Or whatever its real history was, given his comment about how complicated the Cup's history apparently was)?

"Uh... Cas?" Dean said, looking awkwardly at the angel. "I know that we've had our ups and downs where your dad's concerned, but... I mean, destroying the Holy Grail-?"

"The situation in Heaven is too volatile for me to trust anyone with the necessary power to guard the Cup from others, and if it has been discovered once there is no reason to assume that the demons will not be able to find it again," Castiel explained, his tone excessively solemn even when the angel's usually near-emotionless nature was taken into account. "To prevent it from being misused once more, the Cup must be destroyed."

"OK, so... how do we do that?" Sam asked, swallowing slightly- they were talking about breaking the _Holy Grail_ here, he thought he was allowed to feel uncomfortable- as he looked at the angel. "Is there a ritual, a weapon-?"

"There is a ritual, but it requires a very specific set of circumstances, one of which is the identity of the person who starts the ritual," Castiel explained. "There is only one person who has ever lived who possesses the power to destroy the Cup of Life, and we will have to contact him to enlist his aid in that endeavour."

"Who; Jesus?" Dean asked, smiling in amusement at the thought.

"Merlin," Castiel clarified.

Looking over at Dean, Sam was relieved to see that his brother appeared to be just as shocked at that news as he was.

" _Merlin_?" Sam repeated at last, trying to determine if Castiel was playing a bad joke of some kind. "Merlin was _real_?"

"As real as anything else we have encountered together," Castiel said, nodding at the Winchesters. "He was not what your popular culture has come to envision him as, but he was real, and he possessed a power and control of magic beyond anything any other witch or demon could hope to command."

"And... he was a good guy?" Sam asked, his mind lashing back to some of the witches they'd encountered over the years.

"His entire life was dedicated to defeating those who would use magic for evil purposes and using his own powers to protect those with none," Castiel solemnly confirmed.

* * *

"Oh," Dean said, stuck for anything else that he could say in this situation.  
  
Even after he'd grown used to thinking of witches as something that should be hated and hunted for their allegiance to demonic forces, he'd always enjoyed hearing stories about Merlin and the Knights when he was younger; they were a chance to reflect back on the childish innocence of days when his mother had still been alive, when he'd been able to dream that they could just stop the demon and go back to the way things had been before...  
  
To hear that they were real, that everyone he'd allowed himself to dream and hope about in those days of childish dreams _existed_...  
  
"So..." he asked, pushing the part of himself that wanted to whoop for joy at the news that Merlin had been real aside in favour of focusing on the job at hand, "why do we need Merlin for this?"  
  
"Merlin was the last person to fully master the power of life and death using the Cup of Life," Castiel explained. "Due to the power of the link he forged between himself and the Cup with that action, no other user can harness its full power unless he willingly grants it to them, and he never did such a thing when he was alive; having used that power once, he refused to do so again."  
  
"Why?" Sam asked. "I mean, what's this stuff about the power of life and death-?"  
  
"He attempted to save Prince Arthur from a fatal injury and his actions nearly resulted in the death of his mother and mentor when the Cup's power attempted to kill them to restore the balance," Castiel explained, his expression solemn as he stared at the Winchesters. "He rejected that power ever since in order to prevent himself endangering others- his control of the power of life and death to destroy his enemy to save his friend was only possible because of the intense emotions of the time, and he did not trust himself to make such a choice between ally and enemy again-, but he retains command of it, and therefore only he can begin the ritual necessary to destroy the Cup."  
  
"So... what does that mean?" Sam asked. "You... find Merlin in Heaven?"  
  
"No; rescuing a soul condemned to the Pit is possible- particularly in the case of those who made deals, as they may not have gone to Hell had the deal not been made in the first place-, but removing someone from Heaven without the approval of an Archangel would be all but impossible, even assuming I could determine where Merlin was, and bringing the Cup to Heaven for him to perform the ritual there would be impossible for more reasons than I can share now," Castiel explained, looking firmly between the two Winchesters. "To enlist Merlin's aid, we shall have to travel back to Camelot when Arthur was king and recruit him from that time."  
  
Dean wondered what it said about him that he was more excited about the possibility of going to Camelot than he was concerned about the possible dangers posed by the scenario that Cas had just described to them.  
  
OK, so demons had found the Holy Grail and were going to use it to create an army of uber-demons unless they could go back in time and work out how to perform a ritual that would destroy one of the most mythical objects in existence, but they were going to _Camelot_ to meet _Merlin_ ; what _wasn't_ cool about that?  
  
Maybe he'd even get a chance to see a few of the knights in action into the bargain...


	2. The Nature of Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mainly an expositionary chapter explaining how I think the mythology of the two shows tie together- mainly regarding how the dragons of _Supernatural_ are connected to the dragons of _Merlin_ -, but I felt that it was important that the Winchesters understand what to expect before they get to the past, particularly regarding the mythological mysteries of Merlin's origins in the present.

"Camelot?" Bobby said, looking incredulously at the Winchesters as they stood in his library area, his scepticism of their story obvious even as they shrugged on the clothes that he had acquired for them. "You idjits are goin' with the angel to visit _Camelot_?"

"Did you think we were going into action dressed like this for fun?" Dean asked, indicating the lightweight chain mail- apparently it was meant to be blessed to reflect demonic powers or something like that; Bobby had a contact who'd acquired it from an old relative some point, apparently- and leather shoes and robes they were wearing; there was no way to know if it was historically accurate, of course, but given the time they'd had to get this all together Dean liked to think that they'd at least pass muster based on what he'd seen in relevant movies. "You got the stuff together when we called-"

"Because I thought you were infiltratin' some renaissance fair thing when you made the original request; you're talkin' 'bout travelling all the way back to _Camelot_ here, Dean!" Bobby said, looking sceptically at the younger man. "Are you even sure that he can do it?"

"This isn't like last time, Bobby," Sam said, picking up a sword from the small collection that Bobby had lain out on a table and giving it some experimental swings; Dean was still going to take a gun or two with him in case things turned particularly ugly, but he recognised the importance of including more conventional weaponry in their immediate arsenal to avoid attracting too much attention while they were in the past. "Cas has access to Heaven's energy resources this time around, and we know exactly where to go and what to do, without even having to worry about killing anything; all we need to do is get to Camelot, find Merlin, and get him back here so that we can take out the Cup before sending him home."

"Yeah, and on that topic, you got anything about Merlin that we could use?" Dean asked; he might not like the research part of the job as much as Sam did, but the day he went into any hunt without at least _some_ idea of how to deal with what he was up against/working with...

"'Use'?" Bobby repeated, looking over at Dean with an expression that was so intense Dean couldn't tell whether Bobby was glaring at him in frustration or disappointment. "Are you asking me if I have anything about how to kill _Merlin_?"

"Uh..." Dean began, before his voice trailed off as he realised he had no idea how he was going to continue that sentence; he might not like witches as a whole, and he had no problem killing them when he encountered them- even if he still recognised that a few of them didn't know what they were doing when they were making their original deals; unlike with Crossroads deals, you _could_ be tricked into these kind of pacts-, but this was _Merlin_ he was talking about here...

"Because," Bobby continued, still staring firmly at the other Hunter, "I've gone over everythin' in the library that might even _hint_ at Merlin bein' anything more than a story, and while there are a few sources hintin' that he was the son of a demon, there's a few more suggestin' that his powers came from his dad bein' an angel-"

"Actually," a voice said from behind Bobby, "Merlin's father was a Dragonlord."

"Seriously," Bobby said, turning to glare at the angel with only a slight sigh at Castiel cutting him off mid-sentence- he'd spent too much time working with the angel on top of everything else he'd experienced to be totally surprised by anything these days-, "would it be askin' too much for you to just _knock_ sometimes?"

"Uh... dragonlord?" Sam asked, deciding to focus on the more immediate topic of discussion, looking curiously at Castiel. "What's a dragonlord?"

"They were humans capable of commanding the true dragons of what was known in Merlin's time as the Old Religion," Castiel explained.

"The Old Religion?" Sam repeated in confusion at the unfamiliar term.

"It would be most appropriate to consider it an early step towards the modern interpretation of my kind's role in the tales of Heaven and Earth, incorporating a principle of balance that existed between the world perceived by others and the world of magic and creatures that we live in," Castiel explained, answering Sam's immediate question before he continued with his original explanation. "The precise origin of the dragonlords is known to only a few angels- of which I am not one-, but they possessed the power to command the true dragons of Merlin's time, which were large, sentient creatures possessing great wisdom and with power over many forms of magic."

"Beings of wisdom?" Dean said, looking sceptically at his friend. "Cas, those dragons we fought last month-"

"Were mere corruptions of dragonlords driven to the brink over the centuries by the loss of the dragons that they once commanded," Castiel clarified. "After the death of the last true dragons, as time went on, the remaining dragonlords, aware of their power but lacking dragons to teach them how to use it or explore what it would mean, became increasingly twisted, fixating on the purity of gold as an echo of the power and magic that once filled the world and attacking the world that was not what their bodies were designed to exist in, with their power subconsciously warping their bodies to echo the dragons that are no longer among us."

"So... what it boils down to is that... the dragons we know are just warped cousins who've twisted themselves to be more like their missing relatives, and actual dragons are a bit more like... Draco?" Sam asked.

"Dude, what does _Harry Potter_ have to do with anything?" Dean asked before Castiel could reply.

"I was talking about _DragonHeart_ , actually," Sam clarified, smiling slightly in embarrassment at the admission.

"What?" Dean asked in confusion.

"It was a film, Dean," Sam explained, rolling his eyes in frustration. "Remember that time back in 1996; I snuck out to go to the cinema when Dad was off hunting the spirit of that guy who'd been wrongfully convicted?"

"Oh yeah..." Dean said, his expression briefly darkening at the memory- even after everything he'd been through since those days, that night when he'd woken up after going to bed for a quick nap to find Sam's bed empty still made him freak out when he dreamed about it again- before he looked quizzically at Sam. "So, Draco?"

"Basically, _Dragonheart_ was about the last dragon, Draco, who formed an alliance with this knight to defeat the corrupt ruler of their kingdom," Sam explained. "Draco was this massive dragon who could breath fire and talked- he was actually voiced by Sean Connery-, and at one point in the film he explained that dragons had promised to guard humanity because one of the oldest dragons saw our potential when we were a young race..."

"And you went to watch this?" Dean asked, looking sceptically at Sam. "We hunt monsters, and you deliberately went to check out something portraying the creature as the good guy?"

"Hey, I was a kid; I still needed something to believe in to help reassure me that the world wasn't all about killing things," Sam countered, a slightly embarrassed tone to his voice despite his overall defensive manner.

"Regardless of your sources, your essential description of the old dragons is correct," Castiel said, bringing the brothers' attention back to the present as they turned to look at the angel. "In the days when magic filled the world, dragons were powerful representatives of that magic, capable of sharing knowledge of rare spells with suitably receptive minds and providing protection and guidance when needed, but the dragons eventually died out as human society began to reject magic, leaving them gone and the dragonlords-"

"Uh... could you get back to the part where magic once 'filled the world'?" Dean asked, looking uncertainly at Castiel. "What does that actually mean?"

"Magic was once a lot simpler to practise than the versions that you have encountered these days, Dean," Castiel explained. "As humanity turned from magic to explore science- which, unlike magic, could be controlled by anyone with enough training; even back then wielders required a certain understanding of magic before they could fully master its power-, the amount of magic freely available to humans became increasingly more limited as they drew on it less and less; in the time of Camelot, Merlin was a natural conduit for the magic in the land around him, but it is virtually impossible for a human to be born with that potential in the present as there is not enough active magic left in the world to cope with it."

"So... Merlin's not like the witches we've encountered?" Sam asked, a slightly hopeful expression on his face that Dean would have dismissed if it wasn't for the fact that he wanted to hear a positive answer to that question himself; after spending a not-insignificant part of his childhood enjoying those stories, it was good to know that the guy wasn't 'their' kind of witch.

"He was not," Castiel confirmed. "Those witches have only achieved power by making pacts with demons to open themselves to the world's remaining magic; Merlin achieved a greater level of power than any witch that you have encountered simply by being born, growing in power and skill through training and diligence, and he only acquired greater power when his status as a Dragonlord was awakened."

"He wasn't born with that power?" Dean asked.

"Dragonlords only inherited their dragon-related powers when their fathers were dead," Castiel clarified. "Merlin's father left his mother for his own safety before he knew that Merlin had even been conceived, Merlin only learned his father's name when circumstances forced him and Arthur to seek out the last dragonlord to protect Camelot from an attack, and father and son only spent enough time together afterwards for his father to teach Merlin the essential powers of a dragonlord before his father was killed by a bandit raid."

"Oh," Dean said, the tragedy of it striking him as he processed what he'd just heard.

John Winchester might have been an erratically-present parent while they were growing up, but at least he'd been there sometimes, and he and Sam had never doubted that John cared about them even if they didn't always agree on his methods.

For a guy to grow up _completely_ without a father, and then lose him when they'd finally met...

"OK," Dean said, trying to lighten the mood as he picked up one of the swords that Bobby had selected earlier, giving it a few experimental swings to get used to the feel of the thing- John Winchester had covered sword-fighting in their training just in case, but it was one of those skills that they rarely had the chance to use- before he turned to look at Castiel, his arms spread in a casual manner. "So, what do you think of the outfits? Convincing enough?"

"So long as you don't decide to get undressed in public, it will suffice for our purposes," Castiel said, briefly looking Dean and Sam over as they stood before him in their leather and chainmail before he glanced down at himself, an expression of concentration briefly appearing on his face before his usual trenchcoat and suit vanished, to be replaced by a long robe of a similar colour to the trenchcoat over dark leggings.

"How-?" Dean began, looking at Castiel in surprise.

"An extension of my ability to repair damage to my vessel's clothing as well as to him personally," Castiel explained. "Normally Jimmy's original attire is suitable enough for my purposes, but on this occasion a change seemed appropriate; these clothes are similar enough to Jimmy's that the effort required to maintain them is minimal, but they shall suffice to help me walk in the past relatively unnoticed."

"Yeah, this could work..." Sam said, nodding in agreement as he took in Castiel's attire in a contemplative manner. "Maybe we could pose as... travelling warriors or something?"

"Travelling warriors?" Dean repeated, looking sceptically over at his brother.

"It's not like I ever took medieval history in depth, Dean; when was something like that _ever_ going to be useful?" Sam pointed out.

"Hey, just used to you being the font of all unusual knowledge; kind of nice to have something you _don't_ know about for once," Dean clarified, smiling over at Sam before he turned to face his angelic ally. "So, what's the plan when we get there?"

"I will tell you when we're there," Castiel said, reaching out to place a hand on the Winchesters' shoulders as he looked solemnly between them. "Remain calm and focus on me; time-travel of this distance will be... complicated."

Dean didn't have time to ask what Castiel meant before he suddenly had the uncomfortable feeling of something squeezing in around him as he was pulled towards some other location, only just aware of Sam and Castiel around him without knowing _how_ he knew that, followed by the sudden sensation that they were heading towards something very large...


	3. Kilgharrah

As his senses became aware of the world around him once again, Dean was only initially surprised to find himself in a luscious green forest; as much as he might have enjoyed the thought of seeing Camelot, he doubted that even the place where Merlin lived would be immediately accepting of people just popping in and out of thin air around the place.

Taking a deep breath, Dean was surprised at the freshness of the air at first, but he quickly realised that it made sense; this far back in the past, the most toxic thing anyone would be burning was coal, and that wouldn't do nearly as much damage to the atmosphere as the petrol and steam he was used to experiencing in his world.

He might not be an 'outdoors' type, and he'd certainly _never_ give up the Impala for anything, but in this moment, taking in air from his surroundings that was fresher than anything he'd experienced before, he could get what the environmentalists were trying to protect.

" _Wow_ ," Sam said, taking a deep breath as he looked over at Dean with a smile. "That's... _good_."

"Tell me about it," Dean said, grinning at his brother before he turned to look at Castiel and his momentarily content mood was replaced by confusion.

"Uh... Cas?" Sam asked, looking uncertainly at the angel, who seemed to be doing nothing but staring out in front of himself at the open sky before them, his arms spread out in a manner that put Dean in mind of that scene from 'Titanic'. "What-?"

" _DRAGON_!" Castiel suddenly yelled, his voice a roar as he thrust his hands out in front of him as though the Winchesters weren't even present, a sudden glow of white light emerging from his palms before he continued to speak. " _Ω δρακον, έάω μαλερός σοφόνους φθέγγομαι τείδε άναδικέω_!"

The Winchesters could only stare at the angel in confusion for a few moments as Castiel's breathing slowed, a satisfied smile on his face as he lowered his arms.

"Done," he said with a smile.

"Uh... what was that?" Sam asked at last, after Dean had spent a few moments just staring at the angel in silent confusion.

"I was calling for assistance," Castiel said, looking over at the taller but younger brother with a slight smile. "Be patient, and you will see."

"Be patient for what?" Dean asked.

"It won't take long; I was aiming for him when we arrived here," Castiel said before his eyes shifted to a point just over Dean's shoulder. "Ah, here he is."

Turning to follow the direction of the angel's gaze, as he took in the massive creature flying towards them, Dean couldn't believe his eyes.

Accepting that dragons had existed had been comparatively straightforward- after accepting that angels were real, processing other supernatural creatures was relatively easy-, but the dragons he and Sam had fought had still been somewhat disappointing in terms of size even when they weren't in human form.

To be face-to-face with an actual, full-sized, flesh-and-blood, everything-the-kid's-books-and-movies-told-you-they-should-be dragon, flying towards them and getting closer with every passing moment...

As the dragon landed in front of them, revealing a size that surpassed most of the motels that he and Sam had stayed in throughout their lives, Dean's usual training seemed to completely desert him; as he stared up at the massive creature before him, all that he could think right now was 'wow'.

"Hello, Kilgharrah," Castiel said, inclining his head slightly as he looked at the dragon.

"An angel?" the dragon said, its voice a deep, booming tone as it- now that Dean was listening, he found himself thinking of the dragon as 'he' before he'd even consciously realised the shift- looked contemplatively back at Castiel. "I was under the impression that you were presently forbidden to manifest on Earth?"

"At this time, that is the case, Kilgharrah," Castiel replied, nodding solemnly at the dragon before him. "However, the circumstances that have led to my presence here are... complicated."

"I see," the dragon- _Kilgharrah_?- said, looking thoughtfully at the three people before him. "Who are you, angel?"

"I am Castiel, and these are my friends, Dean and Sam Winchester," Castiel explained, indicating the brothers. "They are hunters of demons, here to assist me in my current mission."

"And what is this mission?" the dragon asked.

"We seek Merlin's aid in destroying the Cup of Life to prevent it being used by an army of demons in the time we come from," Castiel said.

" _What_?" Dean said, looking over at his friend in shock. "Cas, what happened to not telling anyone-?"

"I could not keep such a secret from Kilgharrah, Dean," Castiel said, looking over at the eldest Winchester with a slight smile. "If nothing else, he is the reason that I was able to come back so far in the first place; he deserves to know our reasons, and he can be trusted to keep our secret."

"You have come from the future?" Kilgharrah the dragon said, looking at Castiel with an expression that Dean could only think of as 'quizzical' despite the oddness of the idea of thinking of something that large in such a manner. "That is the reason for the connection that you have forged between us, I assume?"

"Correct," Castiel confirmed. "Maintaining the displacement effect so that all three of us may remain in this time frame would be difficult if I was relying on my full power; with your permission, I am using you as an anchor to maintain our presence here, simultaneously preventing us from fully integrating with this time in a manner that would prevent us from returning to our own, without needing to constantly think about doing those things myself and thus rendering me unable to take further action while here."

"Your task in this time is urgent?" the dragon asked, looking solemnly at Castiel; somehow, this whole conversation was giving Dean the strange impression of being in the room when two great leaders were debating some important issue or another.

"It could result in an army of evil being unleashed upon our time if we fail," Castiel replied solemnly.

"I see," the dragon said, looking at Castiel in a contemplative manner before he smiled and nodded. "In that case, you may feel free to use me as a 'focal point' as long as you require my presence."

"Thank you," Castiel replied, bowing his head slightly as he looked at the dragon.

"Uh... Cas?" Dean asked, looking curiously at his friend as he uncertainly indicated between the angel and the dragon after the two had spent a few moments staring at each other in silence, Castiel turning back to look at him with that frustratingly neutral stare that the guy never seemed to be able to lose completely. "Something you're not telling us... or, well, a _lot_ of somethings you're not telling us, actually?"

"Such as how you were able to just... _call_ this guy here like that?" Sam asked, urgently indicating the large dragon in front of them before he looked awkwardly up at the creature in question, evidently worried about the possibility of offending it.

"One of my powers as an angel is a degree of authority over the dragons," Castiel explained.

"Hold on; you have _authority_ over _dragons_?" Dean said, his eyes widening with a slight smile before his expression shifted to a glare. "You mean you could've-"

"It only works on the true dragons such as Kilgharrah, and even then my control is limited compared to the power of a Dragonlord," Castiel interrupted. "I can summon Kilgharrah to me and request his aid, but where a true Dragonlord could command Kilgharrah to do anything, I may only _ask_ that he do some things, and he would still be free to ignore me."

"Indeed, young hunter," the dragon said, looking at Dean with a grim expression. "If you were seeking assistance against my kind, I will warn you that there is only so much that even your angelic friend can do to me..."

"Just... tryin' to get a feel for what everyone's capable of; wasn't plannin' to do _anything_ like that," Dean said, looking anxiously up at the large dragon towering over them; he might be used to fighting the supernatural, but after all the trouble he'd had killing the dragons of his time barely a month ago (From his perspective, anyway; could he still consider something as having happened a month ago when he was currently several centuries in the past at a time before it happened for the rest of the world?), he was _not_ interested in having a fight with the massive creature in front of him.

"So..." Sam asked, looking apprehensively at the dragon, "that stuff about Castiel drawing on your power to keep us here... is that... dangerous to either of you?"

"No, young hunter, it is not," Klgharrah said, smiling reassuringly at Sam. "Our powers will be slightly weakened from the effort required for each of us to maintain your presence in this time, and we may feel particularly serious injuries sustained to the other, but there is no danger to us in the long term and it can be easily severed when you return to your time; if that is what is required to ensure that you three will be able to return to your world later, I shall accept this request."

"Oh," Sam said, smiling slightly at the dragon. "Well, that's... good."

"OK, so now that we've established who everyone is, can we... get to Camelot?" Dean asked, shrugging slightly as he looked at his brother and his friend. "I mean, we _do_ have a wizard to recruit, don't we?"

"Of course," Castiel said, looking up at Kilgharrah. "If you could?"

Nodding back at Castiel, Kilgharrah stepped back and opened his mouth, breathing a stream of hot air on to the angel before he turned around and flew away, leaving Castiel staring after him with a slight smile.

"What just-?" Dean began, before Castiel turned around and placed a hand on the Winchesters' shoulders once again, leaving Dean with the familiar discomfort of feeling like something had just given his organs a thorough shaking before the three of them were standing on a different hill, looking in awe at a massive white structure spread out on the hill in front of them, various small towers spread out around the main construct and various other buildings scattered around the central building.

"Camelot?" Sam said, looking at Castiel with a hopeful smile, his curiosity at Castiel's connection to the dragon replaced by his original enthusiasm at the thought of what they were about to do.

"Kilgharrah just sent the precise details of its location into my mind," Castiel explained. "Focusing on him when I was travelling into the past was straightforward enough- as the last dragon in this time, he is a powerful source of magic in this time that served as a beacon for my senses-, but there is so much magic here that picking out a human magic-wielder, even one as distinctive as Merlin, is difficult unless I have met him before."

"Ah," Dean said, hoping that his grin wasn't as obvious as he felt it was as he looked at the town before him (He was looking at _Camelot_!). "Well... let's get walkin', huh?"

* * *

As they walked into the gates of Camelot- they attracted a few stares for being on foot when so many people were on horses, but it seemed to be just idle curiosity rather than anything they needed to worry about-, Sam and Dean had to fight to stop themselves staring as they took in everything around them; they'd both travelled back to the 1970s- twice in Dean's case- and they'd even checked out a couple of renaissance fairs when researching some of their more straightforward hunts-, but the idea that they were actually in the genuine _Camelot_ , staring up at the castle where King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table dwelled, where Merlin prepared his magic to protect his king...  
  
Somehow, the legendary status of their location made even the smell of horse and other relatively unsanitary materials surrounding them seem bearable; they were somewhere that so many people in their time doubted even _existed_...  
  
The sudden sight of a small group of people carrying what could only be a child out of a nearby house dashed the optimistic mood the Winchesters had been feeling about their current mission. A lifetime of training and habit overwhelming their immediate desire to stay under the metaphorical radar, Dean hurried towards the house to question the mother while Sam ran after the group carrying the child away to find out where they were going.  
  
"What happened?" Dean asked, instinctively reaching for his inner jacket pocket before he stopped himself; not only was he not wearing a jacket, but anything he showed to this woman would be utterly meaningless as far as she was concerned.  
  
"I-I don't know," the woman said, looking anxiously at him, her momentary lack of recognition of him pushed aside in the face of the comforting presence he'd managed to develop for these situations. "I just... I just came in to wake him up and he was just lying there... he was barely _breathing_... he was _fine_ yesterday..."  
  
Dean wasn't sure if it was hunter instinct or simple paranoia that prompted him to take a closer look at the house behind the woman, but his blood almost immediately ran cold as he noticed a distinctive shape on the wall of a house close to the woman's own home.  
  
 _No..._ he thought to himself, his mind automatically reverting to denial even as the rest of his conscious mind recognised the need to face up to what was in front of him.  
  
Even after so many years- even after they'd _killed_ the damn thing he'd failed to stop-, the memory of the time he nearly let his brother die was still burned into his brain just as surely as Castiel's handprint had been burned into his skin before Cas healed it after that last fight with Lucifer.  
  
"Dean, what-?" Sam's voice asked, the younger Winchester hurrying up to his brother before he followed Dean's gaze, his eyes widening in recognition as he took in the long-fingered, blackened handprint on the wall. "Oh, no..."  
  
"Oh yeah; there's a shtriga in Camelot," Dean said, looking grimly over at Sam as Castiel walked up to them. "I think it's safe to say that our priorities just shifted."  
  
"Seeking Merlin's help in finding the Grail-" Castiel began.  
  
"Isn't going to be easy when he's got his own problems to deal with here," Sam finished for the angel, looking firmly at their friend. "If anything we've read about Merlin is remotely accurate, he's going to want to deal with things in Camelot before anything else, which means that the best way to get him to help us is to help him stop this."  
  
"Exactly," Dean said. "First order of business, we have to work out where that thing's been and where it might strike next; I take it you know where they're taking the kid?"  
  
The grim expression on Sam's face made it clear that Dean wasn't going to like the answer.


	4. Meeting the Legends

Looking at the hall in front of him, filled with weakened children, Dean wondered what it said about the world that this kind of thing could still happen even with a thousand years between this Shtriga and the one he'd first encountered as a child. With Sam having confirmed where the sick boy was being taken, the Winchesters and Castiel had followed the group to their destination, where they had been shocked to find at least five other victims lying around the hall, each in the same condition as the victims that Sam and Dean had encountered in their last Shtriga case over five years ago from their perspective.

"God..." Sam said, swallowing as he looked at the children, as small and frail-looking as the victims of the last Shtriga they'd encountered, without even the benefits of modern medicine- from the Winchesters' perspective, anyway- to help them...

"Any chance you could... do anything?" Dean asked, glancing over at Castiel hopefully.

"I cannot," Castiel replied, shaking his head apologetically at his friend's question. "The bond created between the Shtriga and its victims when it feeds is continuous as long as it is alive; I may heal the damage that they have sustained since the shtriga attacked, but I cannot repair their immune systems to prevent further illness unless we kill the shtriga itself."

"Damnit..." Dean said, shaking his head as he looked at the children before he turned to look at Sam and Castiel. "OK, ask around, see what you can find out about where this thing's been hunting; if we can work out its pattern, we might be able to find out where it's going to strike next. If anyone asks, we're travellers; don't... give away anything detailed unless you have to, clear?"

For a moment, Dean thought that Sam was going to ask the most obvious question facing them- even if they could find the shtriga, they had no way of killing it right now; he might have slipped a couple of guns into his belt just in case, but he only had a few bullets for each, and none of them were the consecrated iron he'd need to kill the Shtriga-, but in the end his younger brother said nothing and turned around to walk into the crowd of people in the room, Castiel heading off in another direction while Dean started to examine the children himself.

He'd worry about their lack of viable weapons once they'd worked out where the Shtriga was hunting; once they'd worked out how to find it, _then_ he'd work out how to kill it.

After a few moments of walking around the hall, he noticed a man in sleeveless chain mail looking at the children with a solemn expression that put him suddenly in mind of the look he'd sometimes seen on Bobby's face when they were in trouble- the look of a man who guarded those who couldn't protect themselves out of an obligation that went deeper than blood, faced with something he couldn't stop regardless of his own experience-, prompting Dean to walk over to stand beside the knight.

"It's been like this for a while?" he said as he looked at the other man, trying to sound casual without appearing too intimidated by the other man's size; he and his brother might be in pretty good shape, but even if Sam had this guy beat in terms of height the guy's muscles were _not_ to be sneezed at.

"For the last few days, anyway," the knight replied, looking solemnly at the children lying in front of them before he turned to look inquiringly at Dean. "You're... new in Camelot, aren't you?"

"Just passing through with my brother and a friend; we saw a child being carried out of their house when we arrived, and... well, thought we'd see what it was," Dean explained, before he held out his hand to the other man. "I'm Dean, by the way."

"Sir Percival," the other man replied, shaking Dean's hand politely.

Looking back, Dean was grateful that the first knight he met was a relatively 'low-key' one; he might have _heard_ of Percival, but at the same time it wasn't like he was face-to-face with Gawain or Lancelot or someone like that (He'd been rather fond of the tale of Sir Gareth when he first heard it; the idea of the guy just coming in and taking out all those evil knights on his first quest had been kind of inspiring in its way)...

"So," he said, his initial surprise at the introduction being pushed aside as he turned the conversation back to the topic that mattered, "where did these attacks start?"

"Those afflicted with the sickness have all been found in the same area," Percival said, looking solemnly at the children before him. "Such things always strike the young..."

"Yeah, tell me about it..." Dean said, staring sadly at the kid before he walked away, nodding politely at Percival as he departed, walking through the hall as he took in the families around him, sobbing over the still forms of their children.

He'd managed to save the Shitriga's victims in his time when the thing had been hunting for a few weeks, but that was with the benefit of modern medicine to keep the multitude of diseases attacking them under control; if they didn't act fast, there was no way of knowing how long these kids could stay alive...

* * *

Sam hoped that he wasn't coming across as foolish as he felt he was right now; he might not have been as fond of the Arthur legend growing up as he was of some of the other tales he'd heard as a child, but the day anyone of their era _didn't_ get at least slightly excited about the chance to see one of the most legendary kings and group of knights to ever exist in person was a day he doubted would ever come.  
  
Maybe the situation could be better- from what he was hearing as he walked through this hall, none of the kids were showing obvious signs of improvement-, but as he stood there, inside the halls of Camelot, watching the knights of Camelot stand anxious guard over the people of Camelot, Sam had to fight to stop himself from grinning at the thought...  
  
Suddenly, someone bumped into him from the side, and Sam's thoughts were derailed as he turned to look at the other person; he'd been so lost in thought as he kept on walking that he hadn't registered that he was walking into someone coming the other way. Focusing his attention back on the matter in front of him, he found himself in front of a young woman, approximately his age, with surprisingly dark skin and curled hair, dressed in a simple lilac dress with a white corset.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, smiling apologetically at him.  
  
"It's all right; I wasn't paying attention," Sam said, shaking her hand as he smiled apologetically at her. "I'm... Samuel." (He might not feel entirely comfortable using his grandfather's name, but it would probably fit in with the local atmosphere more than 'Sam' would).  
  
"Samuel?" the woman said, repeating the name as though testing it before she smiled back at him. "A pleasure to meet you; I'm Guinevere."  
  
Only the knowledge that it would have attracted more attention stopped Sam from yanking his hand away from the woman before him in shock.  
  
He was talking to _Guinevere_?  
  
As in, the Queen- OK, judging by her simple-looking dress, either she was undercover to mingle with the common people for some reason or she wasn't queen yet, but she would still be Queen eventually- of Camelot?  
  
It was official; he was _not_ taking this conversation any further...  
  
"Uh... I'm just gonna... go," he said, awkwardly indicating another part of the hall as he began to walk back, only to bump into someone from behind him. Turning around, he found himself facing an old man with a slightly bent back and scraggy white hair, with a weathered face that nevertheless gave an impression of warmth that put Sam in mind of Bobby.  
  
"Is something wrong, young man?" the old man asked, looking curiously at him in a manner that again reminded Sam of Bobby; this guy might be old, but he was obviously still mentally as sharp as when he was younger.  
  
"Just... the kids," Sam said, indicating the children lying around them as Guinevere- _Guinevere_!- walked off in another direction, thankfully apparently unconcerned about his abrupt attempt to leave. "I was just taking a closer look; it's always shocking how things can change so quickly..."  
  
"You have some knowledge of illness?" the old man asked, looking curiously at Sam.  
  
"Just... some of the basics I've picked up over the years; my friend Castiel is the healer of our group," Sam said, indicating where the angel was examining the children in silent contemplation; a part of Sam immediately regretted sharing so much with someone he'd only just met, but the rest of him felt comfortable sharing such information with the older man, as though he'd already assessed this man and decided that he could be trusted.  
  
"Your 'group'?" the old man repeated curiously.  
  
"Castiel, myself, and my brother," Sam replied; if he'd committed himself to making conversation, he might as well stick to the truth as much as possible while coming up with their cover story, considering the greater freedom they had to come up with their own stories right now. "We just arrived in Camelot today- we were passing through on our travels; we get around a lot-, saw the latest victim of this... sickness... being carried out of their house, and thought we'd find out what was happening, see if there was something we could do to help..."  
  
"Ah," Gaius said, looking slightly uncertain at the story that he had just heard even as he seemed willing to accept it. "Well, we are still working on identifying the cause of the sickness..."  
  
"Gaius?" a new voice said from behind Sam. "That tonic you mentioned...?"  
  
"Oh, yes," the old man- Gaius, apparently- said, looking at the speaker behind Sam. "Pass me that bag, could you, Merlin?"  
  
If realising that he'd been talking to a future Queen had been a shock, it was nothing compared to Sam's reaction when he registered the name that the old man had just used.  
  
" _Merlin_?" he repeated, spinning around to look at the man standing behind him in shock.  
  
"Yes?" the other man asked, looking at Sam inquiringly. Now that Sam was facing him, the speaker had a thin, clean-shaven face with long dark hair in a cut that put Sam in mind of his own hairstyle over piercing blue eyes, dressed in a red tunic and blue trousers, as well as a blue scarf around his neck. "Do I... know you?"  
  
" _No_!" Sam said, before he calmed himself, laughing in a sheepish manner as he looked at the other man. "Just... unusual name, that's all."  
  
"Uh... right," Merlin said, before he turned back to address Gaius, leaving Sam to walk away as quickly as possible without attracting too attention to himself, quickly beckoning Dean and Castiel over as he headed for a corner of the room.  
  
"Good timing," Dean said as he joined the other two, smiling in satisfaction as he looked between them. "I was chatting with one of the knights- only Percival, but hey; Knight of the Round Table is a Knight of the Round Table-, and he mentioned that the kids who're getting sick are only getting sick in the part of the city where we entered; we focus on finding something there, we might be able to catch it."  
  
"That... is as good a strategy as any," Castiel said.  
  
"Hold on... 'as good a strategy as any'?" Sam said, his own news pushed aside as he looked at the angel, another thought occurring to him; they were so used to summoning Castiel for help _after_ identifying what they were up against that the possibility of doing this hadn't occurred to Sam until now. "Couldn't you just search-?"  
  
"My speed is one of the abilities that I have temporarily sacrificed to maintain my bond with Kilgharrah," Castiel clarified. "I can teleport if I possess a specific target to travel to or that I am looking for, but a search of the kind you are about to suggest is impossible in my present condition."  
  
"Eh, we've done it this way before, and we'll do it again; no worries," Dean said, smiling reassuringly at Castiel before he looked at Sam. "What's your news?"  
  
"I found Merlin," Sam replied, before turning to point at the young man currently handing out bottles to anxious-looking mothers.  
  
"Where's- Hold on; Merlin's the _kid_?" Dean said, his eyes widening as he realised where Sam was pointing.  
  
"Unless there's two people called Merlin running around Camelot, that's him," Sam confirmed.  
  
"But-but-but what happened to the long robe?" Dean asked in desperate confusion. "And the beard, and the staff... god, does that kid even have an _owl_?"  
  
"You think that's weird?" Sam asked- making a mental note to use the fact that Dean had evidently watched _The Sword in the Stone_ in some later argument-, indicating the woman he'd spoken to earlier as she draped a blanket over one of the children. "That's _Guinevere_ over there."  
  
" _Guinevere_?" Dean repeated, looking at Sam incredulously, his voice briefly attracting stares from some of the people nearby before Dean lowered his voice again. "You spoke to the goddamn _Queen_?"  
  
"She is not the Queen yet," Castiel corrected, looking over at the Winchesters even as he kept his voice low. "Arthur and Guinevere will marry by this time next year; at present, she is merely a close and trusted friend and advisor, although her official position in court is merely that of a servant."  
  
"She's a _servant_?" Sam repeated, looking at Castiel in surprise before he shook his head in frustration. "OK, that's not important now; what's important is that... look, just tell us for certain; is that _really_ Merlin over there?"  
  
"I did inform you that Merlin was not what your popular culture has come to envision him as-" Castiel began.  
  
"Yeah, but I assumed you meant that he didn't wear the long robe or something like that, not that he was a _kid_!" Sam said, sounding almost offended as he glanced over at where Merlin was handing herbs to the old man previously identified as Gaius. "Merlin's meant to be some wise old man; this guy barely looks like he's _my_ age!"  
  
"He occasionally uses an aging potion at this time when circumstances require him to use magic in public where he might run the risk of being recognised," Castiel commented. "In time, he will assume the appearance your stories envision him as possessing, but, for the moment, he is still mastering the finer details of his future destiny; at present, his raw potential outstrips his actual talent."  
  
"Huh," Sam said, looking back at the man who'd now been identified as Merlin, a contemplative expression on his face before he shrugged and looked back at his brother and his friend. "Well, I guess we can't always expect history to be what it sounded like..."  
  
"OK, talking of what history sounded like, that reminds me of something; how come we can _understand_ these guys?" Dean asked, looking critically at the angel. "I mean, I know I never got past the GED, but shouldn't these guys all be speaking 'Ye Olde English' or whatever it was?"  
  
"I modified your perceptions of spoken language when we travelled back," Castiel said.  
  
"You _what_?" Dean asked, taking care to keep his voice low even as he glared with renewed intensity at the angel. "You screwed with our _heads_ -?"  
  
"Only to the extent that was required for you to perceive Zachariah and Joshua in Heaven," Castiel interjected, looking calmly at the eldest Winchester. "When we departed from our time to come to this one, I modified our perceptions so that you would be able to understand the language spoken here, while my link to Kilgharrah has allowed us to cast a low-level spell that slightly shifted the perceptions of those addressing you so that you will appear to be speaking their language just as they appear to be addressing us with terms that you are familiar with."  
  
"Sounds... complicated," Sam said, stuck for anything else he could say in the face of Castiel's revelation.  
  
"It was," Castiel confirmed. "However, it was the most straightforward way to deal with that issue; I did not have the time to fully plant knowledge of the language in your minds if we were to gain Merlin's aid in destroying the Cup of Life as soon as possible."  
  
"Well... just so long as it doesn't mean we'll suddenly lose the ability to speak to everyone when we get back home," Dean said after a moment's awkward silence, shrugging helplessly out of a lack of anything else to do in this situation as he turned his attention back to the task at hand. "Anyway, on an immediate note, we've got the locations where the Shtriga's been feeding; what do you think?"  
  
"Well, what I've heard- and assuming that most of these cases aren't just the children being in poor condition because of the health standards of the time, although I think we can all agree that the odds of _all_ of them getting this sick by chance are still slim- matches what you found; it sounds like the Shtriga's been concentrating its attention on the area where we entered the city," Sam explained. "If we can keep an eye on that area, work out where the Shtriga's meant to strike next, we should be able to track it down..."  
  
"Yeah, and then what?" Dean asked, tapping the side of his waist where he usually kept his gin. "I mean, I don't know about you, but I didn't bring the right weapons-"  
  
"Consecrated iron is all that is required," Castiel interrupted. "If we can find a sufficiently sized piece of iron of the appropriate shape, I can bless it for the current purpose."  
  
"Oh," Sam said, looking almost apologetic that he hadn't thought of that solution himself. "Well... that might work."  
  
"Good as anything else we've got going for us right now," Dean said, as he indicated the door. "Come on; we've got to find some iron before night."  
  
As the three of them left the hall, none of them noticed the eyes of the young man they had come so far to find following their departure, a quizzical expression on his face as he contemplated the tallest man's reaction to his name.


	5. Monsters in the Night

Dean had never realised how many modern luxuries he had taken for granted back in his home time.

If nothing else, stakeouts while waiting for the latest monster to attack its most likely victim were a lot more comfortable when he had the Impala to sit in; when you were out in the open streets, in a society where they hadn't even developed indoor plumbing yet, in a town that was a _lot_ darker than what he was used to- the occasional flaming torch didn't really give you as much light as the streetlights he was familiar with-, you _really_ wished you had something warm to wait...

He wasn't sure if it was just the chain mail making him feel more uncomfortable- the stuff might look cool but it was a bit heavier than what he was used to wearing-, or if he was just exaggerating how 'off' he felt about all this as he was forced to recognise just how out of his depth he really was right now. He might be an experienced hunter even with his year 'out of the game', but that was in modern society with all its relevant conveniences and research tools; right now he had nothing more than word of mouth, experience, the tools in his hands or on his back, and a few hunches to fall back on, and he wasn't sure if they'd be enough.

Sure, Cas had managed to help him and Sam stay undetected while they scoped out the houses around them to better identify which one was likely to be the Shtriga's next target, but even after working out where it was going to be next- apparently, despite the lack of birth control available these days, there were still a few houses in the area that _didn't_ have kids, and the Shtriga's pattern of movement seemed to be pretty consistent-, that didn't mean that the waiting didn't suck.

"You sure this thing's going to work?" he asked, looking over at Castiel as he held up the iron poker that the angel had recovered from a nearby abandoned house and blessed for the current purpose. "I mean, it's not exactly the kind of thing you'd bless..."

"And bullets are obviously holy artefacts?" Castiel pointed out.

"Fair point," Dean conceded, nodding in acknowledgement of the angel's statement, even as he allowed himself a slight smile at it; Castiel's 'human moments' were something he didn't see as often as he'd like since they'd met again post-Apocalypse, so it was always good when the angel felt comfortable enough to make that kind of joke.

"So... why do we need to do this?" Sam asked.

"What?" Dean asked, looking at his brother in surprise at the question; even when Sam had doubted the need for _him_ to go on a hunt, he'd never questioned the need to protect innocent people.

"I'm not saying that we _shouldn't_ stop this thing, I'm just wondering why _we_ have to," Sam clarified. "I mean, this is Camelot; surely Merlin could find-"

"Merlin's ability to act in this situation is limited," Castiel replied.

"Merlin's limited?" Dean said in surprise, secretly grateful for anything to discuss that would take his mind off the current conditions. "Why?"

"At this time, magic is forbidden in Camelot-" Castiel began.

"Hold on; _magic_ is forbidden in _Camelot_?" Sam repeated, staring at the angel in shock. "But... but it's Merlin's _home_..."

"And he must operate in secret under the public identity of Prince Arthur's personal servant and assistant to the town healer, Gaius, to prevent his magic from being uncovered," Castiel replied. "Since Arthur's birth, Uther Pendragon has declared a vendetta against magic out of his own misplaced guilt and anger over the role that he and magic played in the death of his wife; any man or woman caught using magic in Camelot will be executed immediately. Merlin cannot take action in Camelot on a large scale without exposing himself as a warlock and being automatically executed, but must remain in the shadows and protect Arthur and his allies in preparation for Arthur's destiny as the greatest king Camelot will ever know."

"Oh," Dean said, exchanging glances with his brother, noting with relief that Sam was just as surprised at Castiel's current description of Camelot.

They'd always known that Castiel had appreciated humans more than the average angel even before his fall during the Apocalypse- his comment after they'd defeated Samhain was proof enough of that-, but even that didn't prepare them for the almost reverential tone in his voice as he discussed what Merlin and Camelot had been/would become (Depending on how he should consider their place in the legends at this point in time; time travel was _murder_ on the tenses)...

"So... what made Uther so anti-magic?" Sam asked, curious for more knowledge despite the more immediate threat facing them.

"When Uther and his wife Ygraine were unable to conceive, Uther beseeched the court sorceress of the time, Nimueh, to weave a spell that would allow the king and queen to conceive a child," Castiel explained. "The spell was a success and Arthur was born, but Uther, despite Nimueh's warnings, was unprepared for the consequences of such a spell; in order for Arthur's life to be created, the spell took Ygraine's life mere moments after Arthur was born."

"Oh," Dean said, his mind briefly focused on the news of the loss that Arthur had suffered so early in life, before he fully processed what Castiel had just told them. "Hold on; Uther's wife dies because of a spell _he_ asked this 'Nimueh' bird to cast, and suddenly he's down on _all_ magic?"

"Uther's reaction was... irrational, but his response was extensive," Castiel said, apparently out of a lack of anything else to say. "He was responsible for the almost total extinction of the true dragons when he was able to force the dragonlords to help him destroy them- Kilgharrah only survived because he was chained in the caverns beneath Camelot as a symbol of Uther's victory over magic-, and, as I mentioned, anyone even suspected to be practising magic in Camelot is put to death; the first thing Merlin witnessed in Camelot was the execution of the son of a notorious witch, and he received his position in Camelot for preventing the witch in question killing Arthur in retaliation."

"In other worlds, Camelot's currently Salem six hundred years early and with actual witches responsible?" Dean asked.

"Witches who did not make demonic pacts to achieve their power," Castiel corrected.

"Talking of witches, should we worry about Nimueh?" Sam asked. "I mean, I doubt she'd have stuck around-"

"Nimueh is dead," Castiel replied. "She was the life that Merlin eliminated when he used the power of life and death during his first encounter with the Cup; it has currently been over three years since she was in a position to trouble anyone."

"Oh," Sam said, a thoughtful expression on his face at that news; he hadn't read the legends of Camelot as much as some of the supernatural books he'd encountered in his life, but he was fairly sure that there was some stuff about Nimueh playing a part in the later legends as the 'Lady of the Lake'...

"Legends change over the years," Castiel informed Sam, as though aware of what the younger hunter was thinking. "The Lady of the Lake was actually Freya, a druid girl Merlin fell in love with last year; she was killed due to a curse that caused her to transform into a monster at night."

"What, like a werewolf?" Dean asked.

"No," Castiel replied. "A werewolf is a natural creature, even if it is not a part of the order that was completely intended; Freya's transformation was completely magically induced, as something that was never meant to be- she was cursed for killing the son of a powerful witch in self-defence- and Merlin was unable to save her..."

The angel suddenly paused mid-sentence, looking sharply up at the nearest house, his eyes narrowing for a moment before he looked at the Winchesters. "It's here."

Dean didn't bother to question how the angel knew that information; as soon as he heard Castiel's confirmation, he ran towards the house, Sam close behind him, the iron bar in his hand as they quickly ran into the door of the house, their gaze quickly falling on the faint glow through a side door- one bonus of being in the past; they didn't have to worry about looking upstairs as most houses didn't _have_ an upstairs- that could only be the Shtriga feeding. As they charged through the door, they immediately found themselves staring at the familiar form of a figure in a long black cloak with glowing eyes and mouth as it drew something out of the mouth of the child lying below it.

Dean didn't hesitate; the iron bar tight in his hand, he charged towards the creature and rammed the makeshift weapon through its head. The Shtriga let out a strangled scream of rage and pain as it fell away from the child- who thankfully remained unconscious; getting the life drained from you must be exhausting- and hit the floor, light drifting from its mouth as the body began to sag like a balloon that had just lost its air.

Dean was just about to turn and leave the house when a group of three other men suddenly ran through the door; Dean recognised one as Sir Percival, but the other two were a dark-skinned guy and a man with a faint goatee and slightly curled hair that he didn't recognise, each of them wearing armour and aiming swords at the other three.

"What are-?" the bearded man began, only for his eyes to widen as he saw the creature lying on the ground behind the three men, its body 'deflating' and light drifting away from it even as he stared at it.

"We were just here to stop that," Sam said, looking urgently at the three knights assembled before them as the shtriga faded into nothingness, leaving only the robe as any sign that it had been there. "I know you've got no reason to believe us, but-"

"After what has been happening in Camelot these last few days, I cannot afford to take _anything_ at face value," the dark-skinned knight said, looking grimly at Sam before he studied the three men standing before him and his comrades. "Who are you?"

"Dean and Samuel... de Chester," Sam replied, before Dean could make the introductions himself. "And this man is our... healer, Castiel. We are... travellers; we were passing through-"

The sound of a loud roar from outside the house halted Sam's fumbling explanation; evidently recognising the need to prioritise, the three knights turned and ran from the house, the Winchesters and Castiel not even needing to talk to each other to know that they would be following the knights. As the six men ran around the corner, they found themselves looking at a group of three more knights- two with long brown hair and one with shorter blond hair- facing a creature that Dean could only think of as a panther with the wings of a bat that was roaring at them and deflecting attempts to attack with its wings.

"A bastet!" Castiel called out.

"A what?" Sam asked, looking at the angel in confusion.

"A creature of darkness; it comes from the shadows of the realm between life and death," Castiel explained, even as he reached into his robe and pulled out his angel-killing blade, which he tossed over to Dean even as Sam drew Ruby's old knife. "Less conventional weapons are required to stop it; you must act quickly!"

"Right!" Dean said, shifting his grip on the weapon in his hand before he and Sam charged at the bastet before them, Dean shoving the blond-haired guy out of the way of a blow from the creature's wing that he only just managed to avoid himself. With the creature's attention momentarily focused on Dean at depriving it of its intended prey- was it Dean's imagination, or had the thing seemed to be particularly interested in going after Blondie?-, Sam was able to get past its initial defences and ram his blade into the back of the bastet's neck. Even as Dean's brother was thrown away by the bastet's subsequent roar of pain, Ruby's knife was already working its usual magic as the creature reared back, screaming in pain as blue energy crackled around the knife where it was firmly lodged in the creature's neck.

Shaking off their momentary shock at this turn of events, the knights who had been cornering the bastet earlier charged towards the creature, attacking it with their own swords as the creature's earlier agility was suddenly lost in the face of its agony at the damage being caused by the demon-killing knife. Caught off-guard, the bastet was unable to go back on the offensive in time to make any difference, and swiftly fell beneath the barrage of swords, letting out a final roar of agony as the blond-haired knight stabbed it in the heart before it seemed to collapse into shadow.

"Huh," Sam said, looking at the area where the creature had been in surprise as he walked over to pick up the knife. "That was..."

His voice trailed off as he turned to find the six knights looking in obvious suspicion at the three new arrivals, Castiel assuming his usual neutral stance while Dean was wincing at a slight pain in his side from where the creature had hit him as Sam rubbed at a cut over his eye.

"Who are you?" the fair-haired knight asked, looking suspiciously at the three other men. "And where did you come from?"

"Dean and Samuel de Chester, and our friend and comrade, Castiel," Sam said; they had a provisional story already established after their earlier conversations, so they might as well stick with it and hope for the best. "We are travellers; we just arrived in Camelot this morning, witnessed the latest victim of the sickness that we have been informed has been plaguing your children for a while, and... well, we decided to help out."

"Does that have anything to do with that... thing in the house where we found you?" the dark-skinned knight asked, looking at the brothers with a certain curiosity that was at odds with his original harsh glare.

"That was the creature that has been attacking the children," Castiel confirmed, nodding briefly at the knight's query. "If you examine them now, you will find that they have already begun to recover."

"And how do you-?" the knight with longer brown hair began to ask.

"We encountered a creature like that before and defeated it the same way," Dean interjected. "Its feeding pattern and the consequences of it are very... distinctive; we felt obligated to step in and stop it if we could."

"And you did not think to tell us about this?" the blond knight asked.

"In our experience, the sooner we get this done the better," Dean replied simply.

"In your experience?" the knight with slightly curly long brown hair repeated, looking curiously at Dean. "You do this sort of thing... regularly?"

"It's what we do," Dean said, shrugging slightly as he looked at the man. "We find where the supernatural things lurk, and we stop them."

"I... see," the fair-haired man said, nodding thoughtfully as he looked at them for a moment before he seemed to come to a decision. "We shall return to court and discuss this in greater detail; I am certain that there are many issues that must be clarified."

"You mean we'll be talking with Arthur?" Dean asked, smiling eagerly before he collected himself; he was a professional hunter, he wasn't some giddy fanboy...

"Naturally," Blondie replied, looking at Dean with a pointed stare, "since I _am_ Arthur."

Dean had no idea what the appropriate response was when you'd learned that you were speaking to a king, but he was fairly sure that the shocked, strangled squeak he let out at that news was nowhere near the appropriate reaction.

He'd just been talking to the goddamn _king_ of _Camelot_...

This might not be the freakiest hunt he'd ever been on yet- trying to protect his parents from a psycho angel while his mother was pregnant with _him_ was still pretty high on that list-, but it was damn close; how many hunters got the chance to talk to a _king_?

Then his face fell as he realised the implications of that situation.

What the hell do you say when the King of Camelot wants to talk to you?


	6. Knights of the Round Table

As he walked into the central hall of Camelot, Dean only just managed to conceal the initial question about the absence of the Round Table; not only were there too many knights around them for him to ask Castiel about that issue, but he didn't want to come across as an obsessive fan or anything like that...

Looking over at his brother and friend, he was relieved to see that Sam seemed to be relatively calm about their current circumstances- Castiel did as well, but considering that he looked calm under most circumstances that didn't really mean as much as seeing Sam in control of himself-, which at least suggested that he had some kind of story in mind when the knights asked them too many questions about what they were up against (Dean was fairly sure that they could get by with the basics of their real histories modified to suit the time, but Sam was better at getting people to trust him when sex wasn't one of their final goals).

"So," Arthur said, sitting down at the head of the simple square table in the middle of the room as he looked at the three people at the opposite end, the other five knights sitting on either side of the table as the king spoke, "who are you, exactly?"

"As we have already said," Sam replied, looking solemnly back at Arthur- only Dean's long experience with his brother allowed him to see just how excited he was about their current situation-, "my brother, our friend and myself are hunters of supernatural creatures."

"Which covers what, exactly?" the knight who had introduced himself as Percival asked.

"Anything, really," Dean replied with a slight shrug. "Ghosts, demons, the occasional witch, monsters like that bastet and the shtriga you found us taking out earlier... you name it, odds are good we've stopped it."

"Shtriga?" the knight with the faint beard repeated inquiringly.

"Essentially, it is an ancient witch who survives by draining the life-essence from children," Castiel explained, taking up the explanation from the Winchesters. "It is traditionally invulnerable, but can be slain by consecrated iron while it is feeding on its victims and its attention otherwise occupied; we were able to... 'catch it in the act' and kill it shortly before you arrived."

"And... that will help the children this creature fed from?" Percival asked, his expression displaying a gentle concern that somehow only reinforced the obvious physical strength he possessed rather than making him appear vulnerable.

"They will be recovering as we speak," Castiel confirmed.

"Is that why you came to Camelot at this time?" Arthur asked, looking curiously at the three men. "The recent... surge of magical activity?"

"Magical activity?" Sam repeated, looking at Arthur in surprise. "We were actually... just passing through; what kind of activity are you talking about?"

"Like you said, if you name it and it's magical, we've probably been dealing with it around here," the knight with long brown hair said, looking grimly at the Winchesters and the angel. "A few walking skeletons were the extent of it at first- probably leftovers of that immortal army we were up against-, but then there was those wyverns, and then we had a troll showing up a while back, along with a couple of things that looked human but drank blood..."

Dean momentarily thought about asking for more information about that undead army the knight had mentioned, but quickly decided not to risk it; not only would it just attract attention if he was ignorant of something big enough to involve an army, but he could still ask Castiel about it later.

"In other words," he said, looking curiously at the knight, allowing himself a brief smile at the thought of working with people who accepted the supernatural rather than trying to deny what they'd seen, "you've had a whole wave of magical creatures hitting the city over the last few weeks?"

"Some reports could just be stories blown out of proportion, but there's definitely far more activity in Camelot right now than there should be," Arthur said, his expression reflecting a grim weight as he looked at the three men. "We've been doing what we can to keep it quiet- that... shtriga you mentioned was the most public thing we've had to face so far... but..."

"Another few pairs of hands to help deal with the problem couldn't hurt, huh?" Dean said, shrugging hopefully at Arthur; if he offered their services directly, it'd save Arthur from having to make the request himself without suggesting that his existing knights couldn't handle it themselves (Not that Dean doubted their skills- they were talking about the Knights of the Round Table, after all; these guys didn't become legends by being pushovers-, but it didn't hurt to offer some back-up).

For a moment, Arthur stared contemplatively at the Winchesters, as though trying to decide if he could trust them with what he was about to say, until he nodded thoughtfully at them.

"Well," he said, smiling slightly at them, "if your victory over the bastet proves anything, it's that you certainly have _some_ skills that we could use in this situation..."

Then his eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, to stare more intently at the three men. "What I would like to know is how you came to be here if you didn't know about our current predicament."

"As I said, it was chance more than anything," Sam replied. "We travel around the country, looking for supernatural activity in order to stop it; we found ourselves in this area, entered the city to stock up on certain supplies, heard about the shtriga's activity when we entered, and decided to banish it before we moved on."

"How did you begin a life like that?" the knight with slightly curled brown hair asked, looking curiously at the three men.

"A demon killed our mother when we were children," Dean replied, his expression grim as he looked at the knights around them. "It sliced her open and then burned her alive before we could do anything to save her. Our father dedicated the next two decades of his life to trying to find and kill the thing- he also taught us how to kill such creatures ourselves-, and then, after his death- although he took the demon with him in the process-, we just continued doing what he'd started."

"Castiel joined us a few years ago," Sam continued, taking up the story. "He's spent most of his life researching the supernatural world as part of... a group of scholars, so, after he had a... a falling out with the rest of his order, he decided to join us on our own travels. He tends to focus on his knowledge when we're dealing with some of the more complex creatures we encounter- anything that we haven't fought before, the odds are good that Castiel knows about it already-, but he has a few skills of his own when the situation calls for it."

"I... see," Arthur said, looking thoughtfully at the angel for a moment before he nodded in acceptance of Sam's story. "What group did you belong to, Castiel?"

"You would not have heard of them," Castiel replied solemnly; there was a slight tension about his manner that the Winchesters recognised as Castiel's usual manner when he was called upon to lie, but anyone else would assume that he was merely uncomfortable about the topic he was discussing. "We were... very reclusive; few outside of ourselves knew that we even existed until I was called upon by my superiors to make contact with Dean and Sam to prepare them for what was to come."

"What was to come?" Arthur asked, looking at the angel with new curiosity.

"Long story that's not important right now," Dean said, his tone the firm tone he'd always seen his father adopt when faced with a position where he didn't want to tell a civilian any more than he had already.

"Actually, after all you've told us, we should probably introduce ourselves before we go any further," the knight with long brown hair said, looking at the Winchesters with a friendly smile. "You already know Arthur, but I'm Gawain, this is Elyan-," he gave the dark-skinned knight sitting next to him a friendly pat on the shoulder, "that's Lancelot-," indicating the dark-haired knight with the faint beard, "Leon-," the knight with lighter brown hair nodded politely at them, "and Percival."

Risking a brief glance at his brother, Dean was relieved to see that Sam had needed a moment to collect himself as well; the thought that they were sitting at the same table as King Arthur and two of the most famous Knights of the Round Table- Percival wasn't exactly one of the 'big leagues' and he couldn't recall ever reading anything about a 'Sir Elyan' or 'Sir Leon' in the versions he'd read- was easily the second-biggest shock he'd received in his life (Learning that angels were real still ranked at the top spot).

"Uh... nice to meet you," he said at last, nodding politely at the group around him.

"Getting back to the... supernatural activity... you mentioned," Sam began, slipping into his usual 'research mode' as he looked at the knights- evidently trying to focus on the case to stop himself freaking out like a giddy fanboy; Dean would have found it amusing if he wasn't actively trying to stop himself making the same mistake-, "aside from what you told us about already, has... any other activity been reported?"

"As I said, there have been some possible reports, but there is nothing definite so far; Merlin said he would consult the library to see if he could identify any other creatures for certain," Arthur said, standing up as though that statement had been a cue. "We should probably check on him, anyway; if you are as good as you say, you may be able to help him find what we need."

There was an unspoken threat that they would also know if the Winchesters were lying if what they claimed to know didn't match what Merlin knew, but Dean decided not to worry about that; when dealing with a relative unknown in a time like this, even if he'd accept help in the event of a big enough crisis, making sure they knew what they were talking about was the only logical next step.

For a moment, as they turned to leave after the knights had left the hall, Dean saw Castiel turn to look at the centre of the room and raise his hand as though he was about to throw something away, but then he lowered it and continued to walk after them, the knights far enough ahead that they hadn't noticed the angel's temporary pause.

"What is it?" Sam asked, looking curiously at the angel as they continued to walk.

"A powerful spell has been cast in that room recently that I believe is the cause of the upsurge in supernatural activity that Arthur and his men were telling us about," Castiel explained, looking solemnly at the brothers.

"What; you mean someone... rang the supernatural dinner bell to let them know that Camelot's becoming a free-for-all?" Dean asked; he had briefly considered the possibility that the spell was creating the creatures, but dismissed as to extreme.

.

"Most likely," Castiel said, before another grim thought came to him. "What puzzles me is how Merlin could be unaware of such a spell..."

Dean decided not to ask what the angel meant by that- considering that Merlin was trying to keep his magic secret, talking about it too much wouldn't really accomplish anything but get him in trouble-, but he almost hoped that he was wrong about the implications of his friend's last statement.

Even if Merlin wasn't exactly at his peak right now, what Castiel had told them so far suggested that Merlin on his worse days would be better than most wizards of his kind at their best; judging by Cas's reaction, the idea that Merlin didn't know about this spell he was talking about already suggested that there were a few things about this case that should _really_ be worrying them...

Why was it that nothing could ever be simple for them?

OK, so this whole time travel had been complicated from the get-go, but at least they'd had some idea what they were setting out to accomplish; right now, with monsters attacking Camelot and a spell having been cast on the place so well that even Merlin couldn't detect it, it was becoming clear that the three of them would be in the past for a _far_ longer time than they'd anticipated...


	7. Creatures Unite

As he walked into the Camelot library, Sam wasn't entirely sure what he'd been expecting to find, so noted to himself that at least he didn't exactly have to worry about being disappointed in that regard. The library appeared to contain a fair amount of books when you considered that this world didn't have access to the publishing technology available in their present, Merlin already sitting at a table studying a comparatively thick book while an older man searched through the shelves.

"You're... back," Merlin began, looking up as he heard footsteps entering the library, only for his expression to shift to confusion when he registered the presence of three relative strangers among the knights that he knew.

"Merlin," Arthur said, indicating the new arrivals, "these are Dean and Samuel de Chester, and their associate Castiel; they are hunters of supernatural creatures who have offered us their services in ending the recent wave of attacks on Camelot."

"Oh," Merlin said, looking at the three men in renewed understanding; his eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Castiel, as though he was trying to place where he had seen the other man, before he smiled politely at them. "Well... nice to meet you all."

"Same here," Dean said, nodding back at the man they knew would become the most famous wizard in all of history; he didn't know why Merlin had looked at Castiel like that, but if the guy had any idea that Cas wasn't as human as he looked, it would be best to keep his attention focused on other matters until they'd managed to get a chance to explain why they were there to him in private.

"So," Sam asked, smiling at Merlin in a slightly forced manner- evidently, like Dean, he was having some slight trouble working out how to interact with _Merlin_ so was falling back on just trying to be polite- "what else is active here?"

"What else?" Merlin repeated.

"These three men have just assisted us in defeating a bastet and a creature that they identified as a... shtriga," Arthur explained, looking briefly at Castiel to confirm that he had pronounced the creature's name correctly before he continued speaking. "They volunteered to look over what we have encountered so far and see if they can provide us with further information about the creatures responsible for these recent attacks."

"Oh," Merlin said, nodding briefly at the three men before he turned his attention to the book in front of him. "Well, it couldn't hurt; I'm still stuck on working out what could mutilate those people on the outskirts so quickly without leaving any kind of trace-"

"Hold on; did you say that there's been mutilated bodies and you've got no idea what caused it?" Dean said, looking at Merlin with a slight sense of fear at the possibility that had just occurred to him. "Is that just because you can't identify the wounds, or is it something else?"

"Well, the wounds suggest an animal, and there have been reports of something growling in the area where the bodies were found before they were discovered, but anyone in a position to witness these attacks and survive has only ever seen the victims being dragged off," Merlin explained. "Nobody's seen what's actually responsible for these attacks-"

"Could it be... a giant invisible dog?" Dean asked, looking apprehensively at the young wizard.

For a moment, Merlin and the knights could only stare at Dean in confusion at the relatively random nature of such a suggestion, until Merlin's eyes widened in horrified realisation.

"It's _possible_..." he said, nodding thoughtfully as he looked at the other knights. "The shape of the wounds could certainly fit a large dog..."

"But... a giant invisible dog?" Elyan said, looking curiously at the three new arrivals. "What made you think of something like that?"

"It is a hellhound," Castiel said, his expression grim.

"Hellhound?" Leon repeated, looking curiously at the angel. "What is that?"

"Basically, a big, vicious, invisible dog," Dean replied grimly. "We've encountered them in the past; they're generally used by demons to collect humans who've made deals with them-"

"Deals with demons?" Arthur interrupted, looking at Dean in confusion. "Why would anyone do that?"

"Demon deals are... pretty powerful," Dean said, looking briefly at Sam to confirm his decision; they'd answer Arthur's question, but he wasn't going to reveal any specific details about their history with this type of demon. "Basically, if you can summon the right kind of demon to meet with you, you can make a deal with them; in exchange for... future payment, generally expected to be made about a decade after you make the original deal-, they'll give you anything you want, ranging from giving you a talent that you didn't have before to bringing people you love back from the dead."

"Sounds a bit generous for a demon," Gawain said, looking slightly suspicious as he contemplated what Dean had just told them.

"That's because it isn't that simple," Sam replied. "After the decade we mentioned has gone by, the demons who made the deals send hellhounds to collect on the deal-maker's 'debt', which typically involves the deal-maker being killed and their souls taken off to Hell to be tortured for all eternity."

"Ah," Gawain said, wincing at the thought of the scenario described. "Not the kind of debt you want hanging over you, then."

"Not really," Dean replied, trying not to think about the time in his life when he'd had just a debt hanging over him; no matter how much he'd tried to make the most of his last year and enjoy what pleasures he could, the knowledge of just how imminent death was no matter how lucky he might be during their last year together had affected him more than he'd allowed Sam and Bobby to see...

"So..." Arthur said, swallowing uncertainly as he looked at Sam. "Does that mean that... there may be someone here...?"

"If the hellhound's appearing regularly, I doubt it," Sam replied, guessing where Arthur's new line of inquiry was about to go; even if he was personally ambiguous about Uther's anti-magic policy after what Castiel had told them about magic in this era, he could certainly understand why Arthur might find it disturbing to consider the idea that some of his people might have made deals with demons at some point in his lifetime. "Ten years is the standard for this kind of thing, so unless there's some reason multiple people would have been in a position to learn about the necessary summoning rituals ten years ago, there shouldn't be any reason for a Hellhound to show up and start attacking people all at once."

"Unless, of course, it's just been let out by something trying to cause trouble," Dean added. "They've been used just to protect some demons carrying out particularly big plans at times; we once encountered some hellhounds acting as guards for demons who were attempting a ritual."

"So... if they're invisible, how do you stop them?" Lancelot asked curiously. "I mean, fighting something large enough to do that kind of damage would be dangerous enough, but if you can't even _see_ it to fight it..."

"Well, you can sometimes track them by their growling, but the best trick is to get them into an area where they'd leave an impression while moving- a street after it's been raining or something like that- and attack the area near the footprints," Dean explained. "If you're trying to stop them, you can hit them with something made of iron, and salt and a few other things make a barrier they can't cross- although, if they managed to find you, you're then pretty much stuck if they're specifically hunting you unless you can get their master to call them off."

"There is also this," Castiel said, reaching into his robe and pulling out his familiar angel-killing blade in such a manner that he seemed to just be taking it out of his pocket.

"What is that?" Elyan asked, looking at him curiously.

"A blade provided to members of my order," Castiel replied. "It has... special qualities that make it a useful weapon against most magical creatures."

"Just don't ask for one of your own; Cas's order is very specific about who gets one, and he's only been able to acquire a couple of extras since he left," Dean said, hoping that he could cut off the possibility of anyone getting too interested in that blade too early; Arthur might own Excalibur, but he didn't want to leave too many powerful magic swords lying around Camelot once they left.

"Can these... hellhounds... sting as well?" Merlin asked, looking uncertainly at the Winchesters.

"Sting?" Sam repeated, looking at the wizard in surprise.

"It's just that, wherever those mutilated bodies have been found, at least one of them has always been... well, according to Gaius, it looked like the body was killed and _then_ eaten, with the killing agent being a very powerful toxin of some sort," Merlin explained. "I thought that it might be a manticore, but they're typically rather small and focus on specific goals rather than this random mutilation, so I couldn't tie it in with the other damage the body had sustained..."

"It may be travelling with the hellhound," Castiel said.

"Huh?" Sam asked, looking at the angel in confusion.

"Manticores are dangerous and intelligent creatures, but they cannot exist in our world in their natural state for long," Castiel explained. "If you have seen signs of their activity, it is likely that they are travelling with the hellhound to spread discord and evil for the purpose of creating the chaos that they enjoy."

"Could that actually happen?" Sam asked, looking curiously at the angel. "I mean, everything we've seen or heard about that's been attacking Camelot so far are mostly just animals- well, except for those vampires Gawain mentioned..."

"Vampires?" Leon asked.

"The blood-drinkers," Dean clarified. "They were human once, but then they were turned into their current state by another vampire and... well, you've seen the result."

"The point is," Sam said, picking up his previous train of questioning, "is that everything that's been attacking Camelot lately has generally just been an animal out for destruction; from what you're saying, manticores sound... well, a bit more intelligent, really."

"To answer your question, manticores are more intelligent than the average beast, but they are still fundamentally animals focused on particular goals rather than thinking beings capable of making choices about what they shall do to others," Castiel explained. "They are natives of the shadow realm, and require a portal to be created to access our world; this is typically contained within a specially-designed box, but considering that hellhounds are shadow-creatures themselves, it seems likely that this manticore is travelling within the hellhound itself."

" _Within_ the hellhound?" Leon repeated, looking incredulously at Castiel. "As in... it's _inside_ another creature?"

"It is complicated, but it is not impossible," Castiel replied. "The manticore already exists in the shadow realm most of the time; if one was intelligent enough, it could theoretically use the hellhounds to travel between these realms in the same manner as the boxes it normally uses for such a purpose."

"So... find some way to track the hellhound and we can destroy them both?" Elyan asked.

"Essentially, yes," Castiel said, before he walked over to the desk where Merlin was working and sat down opposite the young wizard, moving a map of Camelot that Merlin had been studying into a position where he could look at it more easily. "Once we have identified its primary hunting ground, we should then be able to work out a means of tracking it so that it can be eliminated."

"And what about the manticore?" Sam asked.

"That should be eliminated once its ability to return to its own realm has been destroyed," Merlin said, shrugging slightly as the knights looked inquiringly at him. "Well, based on what I've read, anyway..."

"Very well," Arthur said, nodding at the two men sitting at the table. "Merlin, you and Castiel see what you can determine about this... hellhound's... hunting pattern and where it will strike next; the rest of us will plan our strategy for defeating this thing once we have found it."

Looking at Sam, Dean couldn't help but grin at the thought of what they were about to do.

They were going to be training with the freakin' _Knights of the Round Table_...

He tried not to let his apprehension show when he realised that they'd be relying on swords more than he was used to; he wasn't a _complete_ slouch in that department, and they'd still be relying on some other techniques to tackle the hellhounds...


	8. The Trouble with Hellhounds

If Dean had considered John Winchester to be a harsh taskmaster, he was definitely willing to reconsider it after he'd experienced the day's training with Arthur and the other Knights of the Round Table.

If nothing else, at least John Winchester had always been willing to allow Sam and Dean to fight in whatever was comfortable for them to use; he and Sam had been wearing this armour pretty much since they'd arrived in the past, only taking off what had to be taken off for the necessities to be dealt with- he'd never appreciated the benefits of indoor plumbing before now-, and after spending so much time using swords, his arms were exhausted, and even Sam seemed exhausted.

The Winchesters might have been able to hold their own in a fight, but Dean's usual opponents when more direct physical measures were required to stop the monster of the week were typically unarmed themselves; the effort involved in trading sword-blows with someone like this was a lot trickier than he'd anticipated when he started. Sam was able to compensate through his physical height- he pretty much towered over everyone else in the courtyard by a few inches, which gave him some extra opportunities in a fight that they couldn't always allow for-, but Dean was finding it harder to keep up the pace, leaving him struggling against the other knights.

Taking the blows wasn't always the problem- he'd taken more than enough beatings over the years to know what to do to limit the damage-, but returning his own was trickier; as far as the other knights were concerned, he was virtually telegraphing his moves to them, even if his lack of style meant that it was harder for them to predict what he'd do at times. He'd managed to hold his own to some degree against Leon given that the guy's professional training meant that he fought in a relatively predictable manner, but Percival's raw strength gave him a definite advantage, Elyan and Lancelot were similar to Dean in that their fighting style was so comparatively amateurish regardless of their natural skill that Dean couldn't predict what they'd do, and Gawain's fighting style was so complicated Dean wasn't sure if even the other knights knew what he'd do next...

Still, he couldn't exactly say that it hadn't been worth it; the idea that he had just received a crash course in combat from the most legendary warriors in history was _not_ something to sneeze at.

Right now, he, Sam, Castiel, and the Knights were waiting around the area that Merlin's research and Castiel's experience had identified as the most likely hunting territory for the Hellhound, on the outskirts of Camelot near an area where the walls had been damaged during the recent invasion of the city that he'd heard about. The hellhound and the Manticore that they suspected they were dealing with were dangerous, but even if it was invisible the Hellhound was still an animal that mostly had to travel through the real world, unlike the shadow-dwelling bastet or the Shtriga that could have passed for a human, and would therefore choose the easiest point from which to access the city. Considering that Sam, Dean and Castiel were the only three with experience in tracking Hellhounds, the knights and the hunters had split up into three groups to ensure that the knights could benefit from their insight; Dean was with Gawain and Leon, Sam was with Elyan and Lancelot, and Castiel- his alleged lack of combat skills making him the 'weak link'- was with Arthur and Percival, each of them keeping an eye on a particular part of the identified area in order to cover the maximum amount of ground.

Right now, however, Dean was just stuck in the awkward position of being stuck working with a couple of people he'd never met on a comparatively high-stakes job- they were up against a potential threat to a whole city rather than the more individually focused threats he and Sam normally handled. The largest-scale threat they'd ever faced was the Horsemen of the Apocalypse, given that they could attack entire towns just by being there; creatures like this might be a problem, but they'd never encountered a situation where several creatures were attacking the same location at the same time...

Add in the fact that he didn't know what he could ask the knights without giving away his complete ignorance of the current social situation, to say nothing of him being worried about what he might give away if they started talking to him- _why_ did he have to read up on the risks of time travel after that whole mess with Cas and Azazel after his first experience?-, and he was _completely_ lost for words; trying to save his parents was one thing, but he had no way of knowing how _anything_ they did or said now could affect their future.

Still... right now, with innocent peoples' lives on the line and no other way to stop this thing than by working with the locals, Dean would just have to do what he could and hope it would be enough.

"So," Leon asked, looking curiously at Dean after another undetermined period of time- there was probably some way to measure time without a watch, but Dean wasn't interested in figuring that out-, "where did you receive your training?"

"Some of it was from my father- he was a... a knight himself before he married my mother... and some of it was just picked up over the years," Dean said, taking care to stick to the truth. "Most of the time the things we fight are essentially just animals- strong and dangerous, but very little in the way of actual _skill_ -, so we haven't had much reason to really develop our techniques at sword-fighting with others, but we've picked up some skills over the years; vampires aren't exactly slouches, after all."

"Vampires... that was the blood-drinkers?" Leon asked, looking at Dean for clarification.

"They were really human once?" Gawaine asked, the normally jovial knight apparently disturbed at the implications of that topic. "What happened to them?"

"To put it simply, something... poisoned them, and made them into more vampires," Dean said, trying not to think about what he'd become when he'd been turned into a vampire; Sam had _not_ been himself when that had happened, and obsessing over it wouldn't accomplish anything. "Who they were- the person who won't drink blood, you know- can remain in control if they try hard enough, but considering the scale of the thirst for blood when they first wake up as they are, most people are so consumed by it that they start feeding on humans and don't really take the time to consider the consequences, and by the time they're table enough they're just so hooked on the taste that they don't _want_ to stop."

It was easier to talk about it as though it was someone else when technically none of this had happened yet from the perspective of the rest of the world, but _God_ , he still had nightmares about how tempted he'd been to just tear Lisa's throat out with his teeth, and he'd _known_ what was happening to him...

"And... there's no way back from it?" Gawaine asked, the knight looking unusually forlorn at the thought.

"Once you drink human blood, that's it," Dean confirmed, nodding at the knight. "You can't get out of-"

The sound of a low growl prompted Dean to cut his story short, spinning around in time to see a single pawprint appear on the wet ground a short distance away from the entrance of the small alley they were currently standing in. For a moment, Dean tensed in preparation, but the hellhound appeared to continue on with no sign that it had registered their presence; most likely the smell of everything around them was blocking out their own human scents.

"What-?" Leon began, before Dean clamped a hand over the knight's mouth, shaking his head urgently as he glared at the other man; the slightest sound at this point could give away their position to the Hellhound, and they needed Cas to catch it off-guard if they were going to be sure of killing it.

Still, at least they knew that they were in the right place now; all that remained was the question of whether Cas would manage to get at the hellhound before it found whatever it was looking for (Based on what they'd read about the previous victims, they were probably caught while out walking, but given that this area was still fairly damaged after this recent conquest he'd been hearing about Dean wasn't ruling out the possibility that the thing just chose its victims at random).

All Dean could do now was hope that-

A sudden scream cut off Dean's thoughts, the time-displaced hunter drawing his sword and hurrying around the corner towards the source of the scream, with the two knights close behind. Hurrying around the corner, his eyes quickly fell on a woman running down the street with something growling close behind her, the faint splash and squish of footprints in the muddy ground the only obvious sign that something was there. Before he could react, someone- judging from the height it was either Sam or Percival; he couldn't quite tell- threw a large bag of something out into the street, which exploded into a white cloud, leaving a dog-shaped mass of what Dean assumed was flour floating in mid-air over a familiar silhouette.

If it had been any other creature, Dean would have found the sight of the thing being covered in flour to be rather amusing, but considering that he had last seen anything like that mere moments before he was dragged off to Hell and Alistair's tender mercies for three decades of existence that he was still trying not to remember, he was more concerned with attacking it than being amused by it. Even as he and the other knights surrounded the creature, he vaguely noticed something leap from what looked like the Hellhound's mouth to attack Elyan, a small clawing thing sending the dark-skinned knight staggering into a nearby deserted house as Sam and Leon hurried after him to try and help.

With his brother's attention occupied, Dean focused on the exposed Hellhound, each of the knights slashing at it with their swords whenever the creature in front of them attempted to attack one of their fellows. With the Hellhound's immediate and most obvious advantage of invisibility taken from it, the creature was quickly faced with a numerical superiority issue that it had probably rarely encountered in the past, the knights quickly gathering around it to close the temporary gap left by Sam, Leon and Elyan's forced departure, each one stabbing at the creature before them as it snarled at its enemies, the flour covering its face revealing a twisted expression of hatred that didn't belong on the face of any normal animal.

Even by conventional Hellhound standards, Dean could see that this was a particularly deranged example of its species; the sooner Cas got the chance to stab this thing, the better...

* * *

Looking at the creature that had to be the previously-mentioned manticore as it attacked Elyan in a manner that put Sam in mind of an angry cat, the knight and the manticore struggling on the floor of the house as he and Leon entered through the door, the younger Winchester brother wasn't sure he'd ever seen anything quite that strange in his entire hunting career. Most of the creatures that he'd fought in his time at least looked human unless they were provoked somehow- even Hellhounds were human-sized from what they'd estimated based on the creatures' footsteps-, but this manticore put Sam in mind of a cat-sized lizard with a scorpion's tail and a triceratops-like frill around its neck, made all the more disturbing by its very human face.  
  
With Leon's immediately-available weapons useless at attacking something that small without risking injury to Elyan as well, Sam took the initiative and dived for the fallen knight, grabbing the manticore and hurling it off to the side before it could react to his attack. Leon moved in to stab at it with his sword, but the manticore dodged the attack and leapt up his arm, striking him in the face with such force that he fell to the ground, clearly knocked out by the attack, leaving Sam alone to face the Manticore as Elyan weakly got to his feet, evidently shaken at the suddenness of the recent attack.  
  
"Well well..." the Manticore said, chuckling as it looked at Sam, an eager expression on its face that Sam definitely didn't like. "The Vessel of our Father, here already..."  
  
"That's _not_ going to happen," Sam spat, glaring at the Manticore even as Elyan looked between Sam and the creature in confusion; he didn't know how the Manticore could know about his aborted destiny, but he wasn't going to let it say anything else. "You can't do _anything_ -"  
  
"I dwell in the places between places; do you think I don't know certain tricks that others don't?" the Manticore asked, glaring at Sam with a satisfied smirk on its features. "All I need to do is find the right world to keep you safe, and when he escapes-"  
  
Resorting to a tried and tested method when dealing with something of the manticore's size, Sam kicked out at the creature before him, sending it hurtling into the wall before it could do anything else. As it landed on its feet, Sam drew his sword- he might not be an expert with this weapon, but having something sharp and pointy available when facing something with its own sting could be no bad thing- and held it out in front of him as the manticore charged once again, poking the creature back before it could get too close. For a moment, they were locked in a twisted stalemate, the creature attempting to charge at Sam or Elyan while the two of them kept the creature at bay- swords may not kill this thing, but they evidently hurt enough to make it reluctant to attack-, until, with no sign that it was anything either of them had done, the manticore suddenly screamed, was consumed by flame, and collapsed into a small pile of ash.  
  
"What...?" Elyan said, looking in confusion at the place where the creature they'd been fighting had been standing mere seconds ago.  
  
Glancing out of the nearest window, Sam smiled at the sight of Castiel's angel-killing blade sticking out of something invisible, lying on the ground and half-covered in flour in the middle of the street, with the other knights standing around it along with Dean and Castiel; apparently, their theory about how the manticore and the hellhound were working together had been correct.  
  
"Everything seems to be fine out there," he said, looking back at Elyan with a reassuring smile. "Everyone's alive, and the hellhound's dead; it looks like Castiel's theory about how they were tied together was correct..."  
  
His voice trailed off as he noticed the suspicion on the knight's face. "What is it?"  
  
"What was... that all about?" Elyan asked, looking at Sam in confusion, indicating the burnt bit of ground where the manticore had been mere moments ago.  
  
"It's a long story," Sam said, looking awkwardly back at Elyan for a moment- he was just glad that none of the other knights had been close enough to hear the manticore's speech; even if he'd averted that destiny, having demons after him to serve as the Devil's Vessel wouldn't have been pleasant no matter what happened to him afterwards-, before he decided to take a chance and give Elyan at least some kind of answer to the question he was obviously wanting to ask; it wasn't like Elyan would ever be in a position for it to matter what he knew about Sam. "Let's just say that it involved some demons having plans for me that I didn't like- they thought I was destined to help them, I rejected that idea- and leave it at that."  
  
"Of course," Elyan said, nodding in understanding, a slight smile on his face he looked at the other man. "I know a bit about changing your destiny, Samuel, even if not for the same reasons."  
  
"You do?" Sam said, curious despite himself at this news.  
  
"Yes," Elyan said, nodding in confirmation at Sam. "After all, I was merely the son of a blacksmith when I first came to Camelot, and yet Arthur not only risked his life to save me, but then proceeded to make me a knight of Camelot despite my lack of noble birth when I did nothing more than volunteer my service to repay him for saving me."  
  
"Really?" Sam said, looking at the knight with a smile; he might not know much about this society, but he was fairly sure that becoming a knight normally required a great deal of effort, so hearing that the man in front of him had received the title so quickly said a lot about both him and Arthur, as far as Sam was concerned. "That's... talk about falling on your feet."  
  
"Pardon?" Elyan asked, looking at Sam in confusion at the unfamiliar phrase.  
  
"It's a... figure of speech we've encountered in our travels," Sam said, awkwardly backtracking from his use of a modern term (It probably wouldn't affect history that much if a single phrase was introduced ahead of schedule, but he didn't know enough about time travel to know how much impact he could have on events that he _didn't_ want to change). "It basically refers to someone who experienced an incredible bit of good luck without even trying; it doesn't happen often, but when it does..."  
  
He smiled at Elyan. "Well, when it happens to good people like you, that's what makes it all worthwhile."  
  
"Quite," Elyan said, smiling back at Sam before he looked over at the still-unconscious Leon, the smile being replaced by a more serious expression. "Come on; we have to get Sir Leon back to Camelot."  
  
Even as Sam helped his new ally- could he really call Elyan a friend when they were lying to the knights about so much?- pick up the other knight, he had to wonder if this was really the end; they might have stopped a Hellhound, but there was still the issue of that spell Castiel had told them about.  
  
Was there any way for them to stop Camelot from being a target for supernatural creatures, or were they just going to be stuck reacting to everything as they waited for the opportunity to talk to Merlin about why they needed his help?


	9. A Celestial in Camelot

"You sure about this, Cas?" Dean asked, as he and Sam walked along the streets of Camelot towards the house that they had been informed was where Merlin stayed with Gaius, the elderly court physician they'd met on their first day in Camelot. "I mean, we've dealt with the latest wave-"

"And more will undoubtedly come if we do not take action now," Castiel said, looking solemnly at his friends as they walked. "As I observed earlier, I have identified the cause of these attacks, but I will require Merlin's aid to halt it; as it stands, he cannot perceive it and I cannot channel my power in the appropriate manner to undo it."

"And... you're sure that telling him the truth is all right?" Sam asked. "I mean... well, this is _Merlin_ -"

"Which means he's pretty used to keeping major secrets," Dean added, looking over at his brother with a slight smile. "I mean, Cas already told us he's been keeping what he is quiet since he got here; if we can't trust this guy, who can we trust?"

Sam wasn't sure if it should be considered strange that he fully agreed with Dean's point without fully understanding how his brother had come to that conclusion.

He got why _he_ felt that they could trust Merlin- greatest wizard of all time, notorious for doing what he could to help others, that kind of thing-, but that didn't explain why Dean was being so accepting of it, after all those past occasions where Dean was the one willing to shoot the supernatural first and question what it was later...

Then again, Dean had been out of the game for a year, and they were in an unprecedented situation even for them; Sam supposed that _some_ patience wasn't exactly a bad thing, after all.

It was the morning after their fight with the Hellhound and the Manticore, and with the other knights still resting to recover from the long night of waiting, the Winchesters and Castiel had decided to take the opportunity to talk with Merlin about the spell that Castiel had detected the night before, as well as their own reasons for being there if the opportunity arose.

Personally, Sam was hoping that they'd manage to get the job done as quickly as possible- tell Merlin what they were dealing with, get him to the future, and get him home-, but he knew that it couldn't be that easy; things never were...

"Easy..." Sam said thoughtfully.

"Huh?" Dean asked, looking at his brother in confusion. "What was that?"

"Just... I had a thought about us getting Merlin's help with this stuff," Sam said, looking between his brother and their friend. "Maybe we just... don't tell him about the time travel thing?"

"What?" Dean asked, looking at Sam in confusion. "Are you forgetting the part where we need him to destroy the Cup in _our_ time-?"

"I mean, the demons have the Grail- the Cup of Life, whatever- somewhere fairly out of the way, right?" Sam explained, holding up a hand to stop Dean's counter-argument before he looked over at Cas. "Couldn't we just teleport Merlin to wherever the demons have the Cup after explaining that we need his help, have him do whatever he needs to do, and then take him back, _without_ mentioning that we're from the future or letting him see something about the future?"

"It is... possible," Castiel said, nodding thoughtfully at the younger Winchester. "There is no record that Merlin had any contact with the Cup of Life after Morgana and Morgause's attempted conquest of Camelot, so no harm would be caused by him believing it to have been destroyed in this time; if anything, it may even ensure our world will come to pass, as Merlin will have no reason to look for the Cup if he believes to have been destroyed already."

"Worth a shot, anyway," Dean said, shrugging slightly before he indicated the path in front of them. "Well, let's get going; sooner we do this, happier I'll be."

After another few moments of walking through the dirty streets, they found themselves standing in front of the physician's house, the three men exchanging brief glances before Sam knocked on the door.

"Yes?" the old man they'd been introduced to as Gaius said, opening the door and looking at the three men in slight surprise. "Good morning, Dean, Samuel, Castiel; what are you doing here?"

"Well..." Sam began, suddenly uncertain how to explain his presence there.

"We need to speak with Merlin on an important matter," Castiel said, attracting a brief stare from the Winchesters before his own stare quietened their initial protests; they might doubt Castiel's social skills at times, but in a situation like this Dean in particular felt comfortable assuming that the angel had a reason for making that kind of request.

"Merlin?" Gaius said, looking at this in surprise for a moment before nodding uncertainly. "Well... come in, then."

With that said, the Winchesters and Castiel walked into the small house, their eyes quickly falling on Merlin as he stood behind a desk, looking inquiringly at them.

"Oh... hello," he said, looking awkwardly at them, clearly confused about what they were here to talk to him about. "What can-?"

"Merlin," Sam said, looking firmly at the younger man, "we know you have magic."

"What?" Merlin said, his eyes widening in shock before he tried to laugh as though he thought they were just joking. "Th-that's-"

"Trust me, it's not," Dean said, looking firmly at the other man, ignoring the shocked stare he was receiving from Gaius; if they said their piece quickly enough, that would be all the explanation Gaius needed about their reasons for being here. "I get why you're worried, but you don't have to be; we're not here to... _do_ anything to you... and _God_ , that sounds weird just when you say it like that..."

"Excuse me?" Merlin said, looking at the three men in confusion, his initial shock shifting to confusion as he began to process that none of the three men before him were attempting to attack him for his magic. "But... look, what makes you think-?"

"It's a long story that we can't really explain right now and you probably wouldn't believe even if we did," Sam said, looking apologetically at Merlin. "But the short version is... well, Castiel brought us here because we need your help."

"And... what makes him-?" Merlin asked (Dean had to give the kid credit; evidently he was used to or prepared to try to deny his secret if he was ever confronted about it).

"I am what you would call a Celestial," Castiel said.

"A warrior of the Creator..." Gaius said, his eyes widening before he stepped back, inclining his head in a sudden bow.

"A what?" Merlin asked, looking between Gaius and Castiel in confusion.

"A Celestial, Merlin, is one of the highest and purest of all magical beings," Gaius said, looking sharply over at the younger man. "Created by the Creator of all things as his first and most powerful creations, the Celestials were said to possess power and wisdom beyond what any mortal man could achieve, initially serving as his children before they became warriors against the darkness that one of the first Celestials created in an act of revolution."

"There were other beings involved in the creation of monsters, but your essential summary is correct, yes," Castiel said, nodding in confirmation at Gaius. "Your knowledge is... impressive."

"I studied magic for some time when I was younger," Gaius said, smiling slightly at Castiel. "It has been many years since I performed it regularly, but I still possess a broad knowledge of most fields of magic; Celestials were not one of the most prolific of subjects, but they were one of the most fascinating."

"The lack of information is not surprising; with a few exceptions, we have been forbidden to appear on Earth save in particularly dire emergencies," Castiel explained. "I would not be here myself if it weren't for the fact that my friends need help."

"Uh... actually, that's something I was wondering about," Merlin said, looking at the Winchesters curiously. "If you... well, if you hunt magic, why would you... work with a Celestial? I mean, isn't he-?"

"We thought it would be easier to say that we were supernatural hunters rather than explain that we only hunt the bad ones; we've encountered a few witches and supernatural creatures that we've allowed to go free because they weren't actually doing anything wrong," Sam explained, indicating Castiel with a slightly awkward shrug. "Castiel has been a friend of ours for years, ever since he came to advise us on the plans of Lillith, the first and most powerful demon; he often has his own tasks to accomplish, but he's always there when we need him."

"Oh," Merlin said, before he looked at Castiel in sudden confusion.

"Something wrong?" Dean asked, looking at Merlin with a slightly pointed stare.

"Not... wrong, just..." Merlin began, looking uncertainly at the three men standing in front of him before he finally said what was puzzling him as he waved a hand awkwardly at Castiel, as though wanting to avoid personal questions. "He's one of the personal warriors of the Creator... and he looks like that?"

"Ah," Dean said, smiling slightly in understanding as he looked at Castiel. "Yeah, well, long story short-"

"What you perceive is my Vessel," Castiel explained, indicating his borrowed form with a glance down and a slight smile.

"Your 'Vessel'?" Merlin repeated in confusion.

"Castiel's true form would... well, let's just say that the last person who saw what he really looks like was blinded by it," Sam explained, looking apologetically at Castiel for a moment before the angel nodded in acknowledgement of Sam's decision to provide the necessary explanation. "The body he's in is the body of a good and virtuous man who consented to allow Castiel to use his body so that he could aid others on Earth; with his Vessel, Castiel can interact with us and other humans while providing us with his knowledge and powers when danger threatens us in a more subtle manner than he would be able to do so if he was in his natural state."

"Ah," Merlin said, looking at Castiel with a new understanding, before he shrugged awkwardly. "So... why are you telling me this?"

"Because we require your assistance," Castiel replied.

"You need my help?" Merlin said, after a moment's silence as he tried to process what he'd just heard.

"Well, we're actually here to give you _our_ help with something, but once it's done there's something you can help us with," Sam explained. "We've identified the reason for the sudden surge of attacks on Camelot by magical creatures as being the result of a spell that was cast in the throne room-"

" _That's_ what Morgana was doing?" Merlin said despite himself.

"Morgana?" Dean repeated in surprise. "What does she have to do with anything?"

"When Gaius and I defeated her and Morgause in the throne room during the attack, she vanished after she let out some kind of scream that caused the ceiling to collapse around her and Morgause," Merlin explained, looking urgently between the three men as he spoke as though seeking their confirmation of his theory. "I thought that she was just... well, expressing her anger at the fact that we'd just attacked her sister, but..."

"She... it would be accurate to say that she 'rang the bell'," Castiel said solemnly, after briefly glancing over at Sam and Dean to confirm his terminology was correct.

"With that scream?" Sam asked. "That's an actual spell?"

"Calling it a spell would be inaccurate; it would be like considering an infant's cries as having intentional meaning," Castiel explained. "What Morgana did was a primal scream that tapped into the most basic aspects of magic; she was not even consciously aware of it, but she was sending a signal to all magical creatures that Camelot would be vulnerable to attack, even if she could not continue such an assault herself."

"Ah," Merlin said, before he looked at Castiel more directly. "So... what do we do?"


	10. Ending the Bell

Since coming to Camelot, Merlin had seen and done a lot of things that he couldn't quite believe in- just talking with Kilgharrah was certainly at the top of that list, but it was far from the only item present-, but his current situation was definitely one of the strangest; he was actually working with a _warrior_ of the _Creator_...

He had encountered several strange creatures in his time, but this was something else; he couldn't remember the last time that he'd encountered a creature that was apparently meant to be this... _good_. Even dragons could be of questionable allegiance, but everything that Gaius had told him about the Celestials made it clear that they were primarily dedicated to battling a type of evil that he had never encountered and never wanted to face, and yet they were there to wage a war against the most twisted of all creatures.

 _Demons_...

Merlin had encountered a few ghosts and spirits in his time, and he'd faced his share of evil magic-users even before Morgana turned against Camelot, but the idea of there being sentient creatures out there that would destroy Camelot just because they wanted to destroy things was... well, 'terrifying' was the best word that he could come up with.

Still, for the moment, he didn't have to worry about the; all he had to do was sneak Castiel into Camelot and get him to the main throne room so that he could negate the spell that Morgana had cast (Dean had asked why 'Cas'- Merlin couldn't believe that anyone would give such a name to a _Celestial_ , but Castiel didn't object to it so Merlin didn't see any point bringing it up- couldn't just take them there immediately, but Castiel had explained that something about recent events prevented him doing that, and the de Chesters had apparently accepted that). Sam and Dean were assisting some of the knights in making a few patrols of the city, just in case any other creatures showed up before they had negated Morgana's spell, which left Merlin and Castiel with the task of getting to the throne room to deal with the long-term problem while everyone else was otherwise occupied.

It was a disturbing and unique situation, but it was still one of the most engaging experiences he'd had since he found himself charge with Arthur's protection all those years ago, and the current experience would give him time to ask one of the more pressing questions facing him since the de Chesters and Castiel had revealed their real reasons for coming to Camelot.

"So... what is the... problem... you need my help with?" Merlin asked, looking curiously at the celestial- or his vessel, anyway; Merlin understood why the being before him was using such a form, but he still had to wonder what Castiel would look like in his natural state- after they had spent some time walking through the corridors in silence.

"An enemy of ours has acquired the Cup of Life, and intends to use it for the same purpose that Mergana and Morgause used it for in their attack on Camelot," Castiel explained, Merlin pausing for a moment to take a detour down a rarely-used side corridor even as he continued to listen to Castiel's explanation. "I am aware of a ritual that will allow us to destroy the Cup once and for all so that it may not be used in this manner again, but it requires your assistance, due to the bond you forged with the Cup when you used it to save Arthur and your mother."

"Oh," Merlin said, looking at Castiel for a moment, briefly stuck for a more appropriate response to the news that he had just received- the idea that anyone could do what Morgana and Morgause had done to create the immortal army again sickened him on its own, even without the shock factor of the other information Castiel had revealed- before he asked another question. "There's... really something you can't do? I mean, from what Gaius told me about you… well…"

"We are the Creator's warriors, Merlin, but there are still things that even a… Celestial… cannot do," Castiel explained, nodding in confirmation at Merlin, with no sign that he resented Merlin bringing up something as personal as a potential weakness. "We must all have limitations to ensure that we do not forget the purpose for which we were created, and are provided with the opportunity to find our own paths as we seek to fulfil our Father's will."

"Your... father?" Merlin asked, puzzled at the term.

"The Creator," Castiel explained, a slight smile on his face as he spoke. "Few of us have seen him, but he is father to us all; we were his first creations, until he entrusted us with your protection after he had created Man."

"Oh," Merlin said, out of a lack of anything else he could say to such a statement until another thought occurred to him; he'd never felt comfortable asking Kilgharrah this kind of question- particularly not after the near-destruction of Camelot caused when the dragon had attacked the kingdom after Merlin freed him, given the circumstances of how that attack was halted-, but something about Castiel prompted him to ask it anyway. "Did you ever... resent it?"

"Resent what?" Castiel asked, looking curiously at Merlin.

"Being ordered to protect us," Merlin clarified. "I mean, when I first learned that it was my destiny to protect Arthur, I wasn't that interested in it- thought he was nothing but an arrogant prat-, and for the first few months I was mostly doing it because protecting him meant protecting everyone else in Camelot…"

"And you are wondered if we ever felt the same about humanity?" Castiel asked.

"Well… you were here first, weren't you?" Merlin asked, feeling increasingly awkward even as his mouth continued to speak. "Wasn't being told to look after us a bit… well, demeaning?"

For a few moments, the two walked in silence, only part of this new lack of conversation caused by a close encounter with a couple of knights on patrol, but just as Merlin was starting to regret asking the question in the first place, he received an answer.

"Some of us did resent it at first," Castiel replied, his expression even more solemn and unreadable than it had been earlier. "Lucifer, one of the first angels and regarded as the most beautiful of us all, rejected our Father's demand because he felt that you were unworthy of the love that he had shown you, convinced that you were not the wonders that Father believed you were… but even if some of my brothers agreed with that assessment…"

"You didn't?" Merlin asked.

"Even before I was assigned Dean and Sam as my charges, I appreciated the wonder of your people as my father's greatest creations, capable of far more than what Lucifer was willing to allow himself to see," Castiel said, smiling as he looked at Merlin. "You are flawed, yes, but you are willing to forgive the flaws of others and see them as they could be, rather than defining them by past mistakes."

"And… Celestials don't?" Merlin asked.

"Lucifer and Michael have been separated for millennia and they still long to destroy each other for their respective role in our Father's plan," Castiel said, a grim expression on his face as he revealed that information. "I trust that is a sufficient example for you?"

"Oh," Merlin said, the expression on Castiel's face prompting him to remain quiet as they continued to walk through the corridors of Camelot.

He might know little about the Celestials, but Merlin knew enough about people to know when they weren't interested in taking a topic any further, and Castiel's current manner made it clear that he had reached that point.

As they came to the door of the throne room after a few more minutes of silent walking, they halted at the sight of a guard standing in front of the main doors, before Merlin raised his hand and made something fall over down the corridor at the other side of the door. As the guard walked off to investigate the sound, the warlock led the Celestial up to the door of the throne-room, where he quickly opened it with another spell and slipped inside, Castiel following him in before he had closed the door behind them.

"We're here," he said, smiling as he looked back at the celestial.

"Good," Castiel said, taking in the room with a thoughtful glance before he looked curiously back at Merlin. "Can you recall where Morgana Pendragon was when she let out the scream?"

"It was..." Merlin said, pausing for a moment as he closed his eyes to concentrate on the memory- a lot had happened on that dark day, but he'd never forget the sight of Morgana looking at him and Gaius in anguished betrayal once again- before he opened them and pointed at the right spot.

"Here?" Castiel said, walking over to stand a short distance from the position that Merlin had just indicated, holding out his hands as though he was trying to 'feel' the location where Morgana had been.

"Yeah, that's it," Merlin asked, looking at the other man with a sudden sense of anxiety at what they were about to attempt. "Just... hurry up, could you? We can't wait around for long; this isn't exactly the kind of place that nobody comes to, you know..."

"This will not take long," Castiel said, looking solemnly at the young warlock. "We are both prepared, and the spell is simple to cast; all that we must do now is channel our energy, and it shall be negated.

"And... and this will stop it?" Merlin asked, trying not to show his enthusiasm at the thought of casting a spell with a Celestial; he was a figure of legend, he wouldn't start… _whooping_ like he was an enthusiastic child! "It'll... un-ring the dinner bell?"

"That is correct," Castiel confirmed, holding out his hand as he stared at the location that Merlin had indicated. "Just concentrate with me, and we shall be finished soon."

With nothing else to say to that statement, Merlin moved in to position next to Castiel, their gaze focused on the area where Morgana had let out that terrible scream so long ago as he held out his hand.

As he stood alongside the Celestial, one hand out in front of him, Merlin suddenly felt a near-overwhelming sensation of something _pulling_ him towards the other man, his very energy and magic emerging from his hand to merge with the holy power of the Celestial, their combined power being subsequently channelled through the disruption caused by Morgana's spell- a disruption that he'd never been aware of before but could now suddenly see as though it were a solid, tangible thing-, soothing and calming the damage to the world that Morgana had created, turning Camelot itself into a place of danger when it should be a safe place for all who lived there…

Finally, after a few moments had passed, the distortion seemed to fade from Merlin's senses, and he lowered his hand to look at Castiel.

"Did…" he began, before he fell back to the ground, suddenly feeling as though he'd just been forced to participate in a particularly brutal training session.

"The spell took a great deal out of you," Castiel said, looking apologetically at Merlin as he crouched down beside him before holding out a hand to place it on the young warlock's shoulder. For a moment, the two men looked at each other, Castiel with an intense stare on his face while Merlin looked weakly back at him, before Castiel removed his hand from Merlin's shoulder with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Odd," he said, looking between his hand and Merlin in confusion.

"What?" Merlin asked, looking at the Celestial, uncertain what his strange new friend had expected to happen. "What just-?"

"We have to go," Castiel said, standing up and helping Merlin to his feet, evidently resolved to ignore Merlin's question. "I shall explain later."

Stuck for anything else to do, and with his legs still slightly shaky underneath him, Merlin simply hurried along as Castiel led him towards the door, the two only briefly pausing to allow Merlin to distract the guard with another spell before they slipped through the door and began to hurry down the corridor.

On some level, Merlin knew that he should be asking Castiel what he had actually been trying to do earlier, but the rest of him just wanted to rest and get his strength back after that spell he'd just cast; he'd worry about that when he had more time…


	11. An Unexpected Reward

"OK, so that's the spell negated, right?" Dean asked, looking anxiously at Castiel as they gathered in the temporary quarters that Arthur had provided for them during their stay in Camelot, the Winchesters' patrol concluded without any significant discoveries. "As in, there's not going to be anything else attacking Camelot because of that… thing you told us about?"

"Threats will come to Camelot due to its nature and status, but the immediate danger created by the spell Morgana cast has been negated, yes," Castiel confirmed.

"Great," Sam said, smiling in relief. "So, since nobody's in danger _right_ now, all we have to do is get Merlin to come with us-"

"We cannot," Castiel said.

"I'm sorry, what?" Dean said, looking pointedly at Castiel. "I've been dragged through more than a thousand years of history to a place that doesn't even have indoor _plumbing_ yet because you said we needed to get this guy-"

"I mean that it is impossible for me to take Merlin into the future," Castiel said, looking apologetically at the Winchesters. "I assumed that transportation would be possible, but I underestimated Merlin's power."

"What, are you saying his magic's too heavy for you or something?" Dean asked, looking at the angel in confusion.

"It would be more accurate to say that he is too… _grounded_ for me to take him anywhere else," Castiel explained. "I can transport Merlin to other locations in _this_ time so long as I time it properly, but I cannot take him into the future; his power is such a part of his role in this world that the world around us is constantly making an effort to keep Merlin active and contained in this time period."

"So… he's like Omega?" Sam asked uncertainly.

"Omega?" Dean repeated, looking at Sam in confusion. "What kind of demon's that?"

"He was a villain in _Doctor Who_ ," Sam said.

"Wait- Doctor Who?" Dean repeated, looking at his brother in shock. "That British thing about the guy in the massive box?"

"Look, a guy I knew at school was keen on the classic series, so I checked it out, and… well, for its time, some of that stuff wasn't that bad…" Sam said, shrugging awkwardly before he looked back at Castiel. "Anyway, Omega was this guy who'd basically used his will to shape another dimension that he'd become trapped in around him, but the catch was that he couldn't leave it because the world would collapse if he gave up control; is it something like that?"

"Save for the fact that Merlin did not create this world, your analogy is essentially correct," Castiel said, nodding at Sam. "Merlin's departure would create a hole in the magic of this time that it would not be able to recover from; no matter how promptly I returned him to this time, his complete absence would have a significantly negative effect on the rest of the world."

"So, in other words, we're still where we were on the whole 'destroying the Grail' thing, because the only guy who can do it can't leave the house to do it," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "Well, that's just great…"

"Maybe not…" Sam said, nodding thoughtfully for a moment before he looked at Castiel. "This ritual you were going to have Merlin perform… would it completely destroy the cup, or are there some parts of it that he could do here so that we can do the rest later?"

"Why do you ask?" Castiel asked, looking inquiringly at Sam.

"Well… I get that we can't take Merlin into the future, and we've pretty much established that _changing_ history is difficult at best- particularly since we don't know what the Cup will do between now and our time-, but… is there anything that would stop him starting the ritual _here_ so that we can finish it back home?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, somehow, I don't think magic's just going to hang around some cup for a thousand years-" Dean began.

"It will," Castiel said, smiling slightly at Sam's suggestion.

"It _will_?" Dean repeated, looking at the angel in shock.

"You are forgetting that we are dealing with Merlin and the Cup of Life," Castiel said, looking at the eldest Winchester with a smile. "What is impossible to most is merely difficult for him, and there is his connection to the Cup to take into account. Sam is correct; since taking Merlin to the future is impractical, we must find the Cup of Life here and have Merlin begin the spell of destruction in this time."

"You mean… that'd work?" Sam said, looking at Castiel in surprise. "But-?"

"So long as Merlin has started the ritual in our presence, we can finish it whenever we wish," Castiel explained, reaching into his robe and pulling out a pair of angelic blades. "We must get Kilgharrah to treat these with his flame before we depart, but once that is done we can conclude our business in the present easily enough."

"Just the wave of demons between us and the Cup to get past, eh?" Dean said, smiling in understanding at his friend. "Tough, but nothing we can't handle."

"So… what now?" Sam asked. "I get that we have a plan, but we still have to find the Cup in _this_ time…"

His voice trailed off for a moment as he looked over at Castiel. "But you know where it is here, don't you?"

"I do," Castiel confirmed. "It presently remains in the possession of Morgana le Fay and her sister Morgause."

Even after the memory of the time he'd briefly spent as Lucifer's Vessel, Sam couldn't stop his eyes from widening in shock at that news.

They were going to have to directly confront one of the most feared witches of all time (He wasn't sure if Morgause was meant to be a separate person from Morgana or just another name for her, but Morgana was a definite danger signal)?

OK, given how bad their luck was sometimes, they should be grateful that their time in Camelot had gone so comparatively smoothly, and it wasn't like they hadn't faced bigger problems than a couple of witches, but the reputations that the witches in question had/would have in the future wasn't exactly something to be sneezed at.

"So," Sam said, looking thoughtfully between his brother and their angelic ally, "how are we going to do this?"

"Carefully," Castiel said. "I will require some time to determine the location of the Cup and the witches at this time, considering their power and the lengths that they will have gone to in order to conceal themselves. I will inform you when I have isolated their location and we can proceed from there."

"In other words, just hang around for the next week or so?" Dean asked.

"It is unlikely to be more than a couple of days; they are not anticipating a need to ward for my presence," Castiel replied.

"Well, that's something," Dean reflected, glancing over at Sam with a sigh. "I don't know about you, but right now I'd trade the whole 'staying in a palace' thing for a decent toilet."

"Let's… just not think about that, OK?" Sam asked, even as the wince at the memory of the smell in the public privy they'd had to use came back to him.

Quite frankly, he wasn't sure if he hated the privy or the bucket more; the privy stank, but the bucket was just humiliating even without the issue that he had to just throw everything out of the window afterwards…

* * *

After a couple of days without activity had gone by, marking the longest period without any monsters appearing in the city, the Winchesters and Castiel had gone to Arthur to reveal the 'truth' about the attacks. Claiming that they had guessed- after questioning Merlin and Gaius about the last confrontation with Morgana and Morgause- that a spell cast by Morgana was the cause of the escalation of magical creatures attacking Camelot, the Winchesters had told Arthur that Castiel had managed to find an old counter-charm that negated the spell that had attracted the monsters to Camelot; Arthur might be naturally uncertain about the use of magic, but when the Winchesters had assured him that it was essentially 'anti-magic' rather than any kind of actual magic, he had accepted their methods and left the issue alone.  
  
With Arthur assured that the Winchesters had only remained silent about the sigil until they had been certain that the sigil had done its job, the Winchesters and Castiel had soon found themselves guests of honour at a banquet thrown to celebrate the end of the supernatural attacks. Dean was slightly disappointed at the lack of pie, while Sam had restricted himself primarily to the vegetables that were on offer, but there had been more than sufficient food for them both to enjoy what was available; Castiel had even been convinced to have a few bites himself, although he had been able to avoid receiving too much food by claiming that he was fasting as part of a tradition for the rules of his order (Dean had to give Cas credit; the guy was actually getting better at the lying thing).  
  
"Been an experience, hasn't it?" a voice said, Dean glancing over and unable to stop himself grinning as he realised that Gawain was the knight who'd just addressed him.  
  
"Yeah… that's certainly one way to look at it," he said, smiling at the other man; he wouldn't call himself a 'fanboy'- despite Sam's occasional teasing comment about him watching _Dr Sexy_ since that mess with Loki/Gabriel in TV land-, but it was still kind of cool to be talking with Sir Gawain. "I mean, I've heard some of the stories, but… I mean, actually _being_ here…"  
  
"Trust me, you're seeing it at its best," Gawain said, grinning back at him. "I came here when Uther was in charge about a year ago, and he exiled me on pain of death just because I spoke up against a couple of knights who turned out to be fakes."  
  
"Ouch," Dean said, looking sympathetically at Gawain. "Harsh ruler, huh?"  
  
"Technically, he still is; he's just… well, he needed some time to recover after everything that happened lately, so Arthur's been doing most of it at the moment," Gawain said, looking briefly downcast at the statement for reasons Dean wasn't going to over-analyse before he shrugged and turned back to Dean with a slight smile. "Anyway, even if Uther's flawed, Arthur's all right; we are talking about the king who knighted a bunch of peasants based on their worth rather than their family, after all."  
  
"Like you and Elyan?" Dean asked, looking curiously at Gawain, recalling what Sam had told him about what he'd learned from Elyan.  
  
"And Lancelot and Percival," Gawain said, his manner suggesting there was something else to that statement even if he wasn't going to say more. "Lancelot came here a couple of years ago trying to fake his way into becoming a knight- I heard Merlin helped him draw up some sham family history so he could take part in a tournament-, but he was banished after Uther found out he'd lied to get into this tournament; he only came back now because Merlin sent a message for help after Morgana's attack on Camelot, and Percival came along with him after one of Morgana's allies destroyed his village."  
  
"Interesting bunch," Dean said with a smile. "I get why Lancelot did that, though; in our line of work, Sam and I… well, we sometimes end up having to deal with a situation where we have to pretend to be something we're not if we're going to get anywhere."  
  
"Only way to find the monsters, huh?" Gawain said.  
  
"We're generally honest, but it's sometimes easier if people don't know who you are," Dean said, smiling back at the knight before he looked at the group sitting around the table. "Besides, every so often, we find ourselves in a position where we actually get some recognition for what we do; doesn't happen often, but moments like this make it all worthwhile."  
  
Looking over at where Sam was talking with Lancelot about something, and Castiel was having a surprising discussion with Gaius- he wondered how much the old guy was getting Cas to share about his life upstairs-, Dean smiled at the new evidence of his last statement; he might find the stench of the place unpleasant, but all in all Camelot had definitely given them one of the nice greetings they'd ever had for doing their job…  
  
"A toast!" Elyan said, raising his goblet as the food began to run low at last, looking over to the Winchesters and Castiel. "To our friends, Dean and Samuel de Chester and Castiel, for their aid in hunting down the monsters that have haunted our kingdom!"  
  
"Agreed," Arthur said, raising his own goblet as he smiled over at the Winchesters and the angel. "Your assistance has been most appreciated in these last few days. Are you sure that I cannot tempt you to remain?"  
  
"Uh… it's appreciated, but we really can't," Dean said, looking awkwardly at Arthur (He had to stop himself from even _thinking_ about making a joke of the matter; he might be American, but just because they'd moved over there to get away from kings didn't mean they shouldn't respect them). "We're wanderers by nature, and there are so many others out there who need our help; we just… we wouldn't feel _right_ , staying in one place…"  
  
"I respect your decision, even if I regret it," Arthur said, standing up from his chair and walking around to stand in the middle of the dining tables, looking solemnly at the Winchesters. "However, before you depart, there is something I can give you."  
  
With that statement, he drew his sword, and looked solemnly at the two men. "Stand before me, and kneel."  
  
Exchanging a sudden glance of understanding, Sam and Dean got up and walked around the table to join Arthur in the middle, lowering themselves to their knees and bowing their heads as Arthur walked up to them, placing his sword on Dean's right shoulder before moving it to his left.  
  
"Arise, Sir Dean, Knight of Camelot," Arthur said, standing back to allow Dean to get to his feet before moving on to repeat his previous actions on Sam's shoulders. "Arise, Sir Samuel, Knight of Camelot."  
  
As he removed the sword from Sam's shoulders, Arthur stepped back, allowing Sam and Dean to get to their feet once again, the brothers trying to resist the urge to look at each other with broad grins.  
  
"Th… thank you," Sam said, looking back at Arthur with an uncertain smile out of a lack of anything else he could say. "We're… it's an honour."  
  
"The honour is ours, to have known and fought alongside you," Arthur said, nodding at the two men. "Your time in Camelot has been brief, but you have done us all a great service with your aid in this situation, and you have proven yourselves to be skilled warriors; we would be most honoured if you should pass this way again."  
  
"And we would be honoured to fight alongside you all if we should come through Camelot again in the future," Dean said, his usual disregard for authority forgotten as he bowed at Arthur as he spoke. "Thank you, sire."  
  
Even if they were almost certainly never going to come back here, the fact that he and Dean had just been _knighted_ by _King Arthur_ …  
  
'Wow' was an understatement; after the crap they'd gone through as hunters when dealing with authority figures at times, it was nice to receive this kind of validation of their efforts, even if it wouldn't 'count' back home.  
  
"Before we depart tomorrow morning, sire, may I ask one last request?" Castiel said, looking over at Arthur from his seat.  
  
"Yes, of course," Arthur said, looking curiously back at the angel.  
  
"As we depart, there are certain herbs I would like to collect to prepare future potions; as you can appreciate, my role as our healer requires that I maintain fresh supplies," Castiel said, the angel surprisingly casual as he spoke despite his usual issues with lying. "I have been informed that your manservant assists the court physician in collecting ingredients; would it be possible for him to accompany us to a location where we can collect what I need before we depart from your kingdom?"  
  
"Well… if Merlin has no objections, I see no reason why this should not be possible," Arthur said, looking over at Merlin.  
  
"I would be happy to assist Castiel, sire," Merlin said, nodding at the other man.  
  
"Good," Arthur said, nodding at Merlin before looking back at the Winchesters. "Very well, then; Merlin will accompany you when you depart tomorrow, but for the night, you will remain our honoured guests, and can be assured that you will always find friends here when you return."  
  
As they turned their attention back to the feast before them, Dean glanced over at Merlin with a slight smile, wondering what his dad would make of this particular turn of events.  
  
They'd spent so much time hunting witches in the future, and now here he was, about to face the most dangerous witch of all in the company of the greatest wizard to ever live…  
  
Damn, he was working with _Merlin_ ; what _wasn't_ cool about that scenario?


	12. When Witches Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are; the Winchesters VS Morgana and Morgause, with a _very_ special 'guest star'…

"So," Merlin asked, after he had been riding alongside the de Chester brothers and Castiel for the better part of an hour- Arthur had given them some horses to help them on their way, although he was surprised to note that the de Chesters seemed remarkably uncomfortable travelling in such a manner-, the four men having gotten off their horses and tying them to a nearby tree, "since I don't think a Celestial would really need help with anything, what _am_ I here for?"

"You will accompany us to destroy the Cup of Life," Castiel said, looking back at Merlin.

Merlin blinked.

"Pardon?" he said, looking at the Celestial in surprise.

"It's… well, apparently the bond you formed with it when you last used it gives you a connection to it that Castiel can help you use to destroy it," Sam said, shrugging slightly as he looked at the warlock. "We know it's a bit abrupt-"

"Actually, Castiel already told me about that part of your presence here," Merlin said, looking uncertainly at them. "What I don't understand is why you asked me to come along with you now to do that; I don't know where the Cup is, but I think Arthur would notice if I was away long enough to find it…"

"Not exactly," Dean said, looking over at Castiel with a smile. "Cas is… well, he's pretty sure he can find _where_ it is, and take us there- it's a bit weird, but he can do this 'rapid transportation' thing pretty easily-; he's just going to need you to help him perform the ritual he needs to start destroying it when we get there."

"Oh," Merlin said, momentarily about to ask if Castiel was powerful enough to do something like that- teleportation spells were one of the most complicated pieces of magic he had ever read about-, but then he reminded himself that he was dealing with a Celestial and decided to remain silent or risk embarrassment. "So… where is it?"

"It is with Morgana and Morgause," Castiel replied

"Ah," Merlin said, quashing his immediate thought that this would be easy. "Of _course_ it's with them…"

"Actually, that reminds me of something," Sam said, looking curiously at Merlin. "I know why you keep your magic secret to the rest of Camelot, and obviously everyone in the kingdom knows what those two can do, but do Morgana and Morgause… well, do they know about… well, _you_?"

"Do they know about my magic?" Merlin asked, smiling slightly as Sam nodded in clarification. "No, they don't; it's been a blessing so far- I think they know that I've played a part in stopping them sometimes, but they can't work it out because they don't know what I'm really capable of-, but…"

"But?" Dean repeated, looking at Merlin in confusion.

"Well… I sometimes wonder if I'm responsible for it," Merlin said, in a slightly rushed manner that put Dean in mind of someone ripping off a plaster to stop it hurting too much. "I was _there_ when Morgana realised that she had magic, back when she was still just Uther's ward, but all I did to help her was offer to keep it secret; I didn't tell her that I had magic as well, I didn't offer to help her learn about her powers on my own…"

"Hey, we all screw up sometimes, Merl," Dean said, grinning over at the warlock.

"Yeah," Sam said, nodding in agreement (Anything to distract himself from the fact that Dean was giving _Merlin_ a _nickname_ ). "I mean, a few years back, we learned that our father had… well, he'd kept some secrets from us… but he made a decision, and we had to go along with the consequences afterwards; it would have been easy to put it all on him, but we accepted our own role in events as they were and left it at that."

"End result is, we can't go nuts thinking about what went wrong in the past," Dean said, smiling over at the manservant. "We're where we are now, and that's the end of that; right now, all that matters is that we've got a mission, and we've got to get it done."

"Of course," Merlin said, nodding in grim resolve at the two brothers. "So… what now?"

"This," Castiel said, reaching over to place a hand on Merlin and Dean's shoulders, Sam moving in to place a hand on Dean's shoulder…

* * *

There was a sudden disorientating sensation that Merlin couldn't describe even when it was happening, and he found himself standing on the outskirts of an unfamiliar forest, with two figures just visible a short distance away from them, walking along a small path with a horse.  
  
"Morgana and Morgause?" Sam asked, looking at Merlin curiously.  
  
"Yes…" Merlin said, squinting slightly before he nodded in confirmation; it was indeed the two sisters, walking on either side of a horse with some large bags hanging over its back, dressed in dark clothes and long brown robes, their distinctive hair the only obvious clue to their identities.  
  
"Right," Dean said, looking over at Castiel. "They've got the Cup?"  
  
"They do," Castiel said.  
  
"Good," Dean said, turning his attention back to Merlin. "We'll deal with this; you stay back."  
  
"If something goes wrong, it's… probably best that they don't know about you," Sam clarified, just as Merlin was about to protest.  
  
Merlin hated to admit it, but he was partly grateful to Sam for giving him that excuse to 'back out' of the fight; things between him and Morgana still felt too… fresh… for him to feel comfortable with the thought of fighting her like the Winchesters were intending to.  
  
"Just stay here," Dean said grimly. "We'll handle this."  
  
A part of Merlin wondered how the De Chesters and Castiel intended to 'handle' the witches- they might be experienced hunters of magical creatures even without Castiel's true heritage, but Morgana and Morgause weren't exactly regular witches either-, but the rest of him quickly concluded that he wouldn't want to know.  
  
Whatever she had been… no matter what she'd become…  
  
Merlin just wasn't sure if he was _ready_ to see Morgana die yet.  
  
A part of him wondered if he'd ever be able to fully let go of what she'd been…

* * *

As they walked towards the two sisters, Sam wondered if he should feel more apprehensive about the relative ease of this confrontation; considering the kind of reputation that Morgana had built up over the years- he wasn't sure off the top of his head if Morgause was assumed to just be another name for her or if there'd been a separate person with that name in Arthurian myth-, should it really be _this_ easy to sneak up on her?  
  
OK, so they had the element of surprise and whatever Cas might be doing to help them out, but it was only natural to be concerned when you were about to face a legendary witch…  
  
Then one of them- the blonde one; Sam was fairly sure from descriptions he'd heard that she was Morgause- turned to look in their direction, and Sam didn't hesitate; he immediately drew his sword while Dean pulled out his own weapon, Castiel standing behind them in a defensive posture.  
  
"Who are you?" Morgause asked, looking grimly at the two men.  
  
"Dean and Samuel De Chester, and our healer, Castiel," Sam said; the less information they gave these two about their real identities, the better, as far as he was concerned. "We're here for the Cup of Life."  
  
"The Cup of Life?" Morgana repeated, looking at Sam with a slightly mocking smile. "Did you think we'd just… _give_ it to you?"  
  
"No, but a guy can dream, can't he?" Dean said, smiling briefly at her before his expression hardened. "Now then, my brother said it once and I'd rather not have to say it again, but give us the Cup and we'll be on our way."  
  
" _Never_ ," Morgana said, glaring scornfully at them. "I _need_ the Cup-"  
  
"To do what, exactly?" Sam asked. "You already blew it with the whole 'create an immortal army' plan; do you think the second time will be any different?"  
  
"You have _no_ idea what we are trying to accomplish here," Morgana said, still glaring at the brothers. "I seek nothing more than to improve things for my people-"  
  
"And you think _this_ is going to get you anywhere?" Sam asked indignantly. "Trying to take over the kingdom like that is just going to make people _more_ afraid of magic-"  
  
"I have _seen_ what will happen if Arthur becomes king-!" Morgana protested.  
  
"Yeah, if we're talking about predictions, I've got a prediction of my own for you, bitch," Dean said, glaring at Morgana with his own indignant glare. "A thousand years from now, everyone's going to know you as one of the most twisted and evil witches ever; hell, some people think that you screwed your own _brother_ to conceive his killer."  
  
"What?" Morgana said, looking at him in sudden confusion.  
  
"Yeah, that's a _whole_ other story; can we just focus on the fact that we need the Cup and take it from there?" Sam asked, holding out hope that they'd manage to end this without things becoming too unpleasant.  
  
Raising her hand in response, Morgana hurled a sudden burst of energy at Sam, only for Castiel to step forward, one hand outstretched, catching the spell in his hand as the angel stared grimly at his foe.  
  
"I cannot permit this, Morgana Pendragon," Castiel said solemnly.  
  
"You _dare_ -!" Morgana began.  
  
"Yeah, he dares," Dean said, walking up to Morgana with his sword raised. "And so do I."  
  
As Dean lunged towards Morgana with his sword drawn, Morgana drew her own sword as it hung by her side, narrowly managing to parry the blow that Dean had dealt, leaving Sam to charge towards Morgause as she drew her own blade. For a moment, Sam was startled to see the scarring on the right side of her face around her eye, the skin there raw with partly-healed cuts, but the fight quickly took priority as Sam swung his sword in a desperate attempt to deflect his enemy's attacks. He briefly registered the sight of Castiel hurrying past them to head for the horse, but he had more pressing concerns than making sure their angelic ally had found the Cup.  
  
After a few moments of random swinging- Morgause was good, but she was also still injured after whatever had happened in Camelot, and Sam's lack of experience actually helped as it meant that she didn't know what he was going to do-, the two ended up with their swords straining against each other, Morgause smirking while Sam just fought to maintain his balance.  
  
"Do you surrender, Samuel?" Morgause asked, looking at him with a slight smile.  
  
"Depends," Sam said, reaching into his tunic to pull out something he'd never imagined himself using here, still straining to keep his sword in position with his remaining hand. "Do _you_?"  
  
"No," Morgause said with a satisfied smile; evidently, she thought there would be nothing small enough to be kept in his tunic that would be useful to him in this fight.  
  
"Then I'm fine doing this," Sam replied, pulling out his gun, aiming it at Morgause's face, and firing as best as he could despite his poor position.  
  
As Morgause fell back, Sam winced at the sight of the damage left on the side of her head; there'd already been some scars there, but the gun going off in such close proximity, combined with the heat of the barrel, had just made the damage worse. Judging by the glow surrounding her hand as she slapped it against the side of her face, Morgause was attempting some kind of spell- most likely a healing spell, Sam guessed-, but he didn't give her the chance, quickly releasing another three bullets into her chest before a scream of rage was followed by a burst of power that sent him flying backwards once again.  
  
"NO!" Morgana yelled, glaring in rage at Sam as she strode dramatically towards them, a gleam in her eyes that Sam didn't need years of hunting experience to know that it didn't bode well for him. A quick glance revealed that Dean was lying a short distance away, looking up with a slightly dazed expression on his face; most likely Morgana had given up on the sword-fight and thrown him away once Sam had injured her sister.  
  
"Sister…" Morgause said, staring weakly up at the dark-haired witch as Morgana crouched down beside her.  
  
" _No_ ," a voice suddenly said.  
  
"What the-?" Dean said, his voice drawing Sam's attention to where Castiel was standing, staring in shock at the glowing golden cup he held in his hands. Sam only had a moment to realise that the shocked expression on Castiel's face was focused on the Cup before something in the Cup seemed to explode, followed by the appearance of a tall, dark-haired woman dressed in a dark maroon, sleeveless dress under a lilac-covered cloak with a large hood.  
  
"Nimueh…?" Morgause said, staring in surprise at this new figure before she collapsed to the ground, her face pale and her side bleeding from Sam's shot.  
  
" _Nimueh_?" Dean repeated before looking over at Castiel, who was still holding on to the Cup. "I thought you said she died years ago!"  
  
"She did," Castiel said, staring at the apparition before them, a sense of fatigue about their angelic friend that Sam hadn't seen from him since he'd collapsed during their trip back in time to stop Anna. "But… the Cup…"  
  
"Hold on a minute…" Sam said, his eyes widening in recollection as he looked at Castiel. "You said that Nimueh was killed when her life was sacrificed to maintain that… balance thing Merlin used to save Arthur, right?"  
  
" _And my spirit was able to bond itself to the Cup of Life following the destruction of my physical form_ ," Nimueh explained, looking solemnly between the two hunters and the two witches standing before her. " _Of course, I had to sacrifice my ability to become corporeal to do so- I am only able to manifest now with the aid of the Celestial's power_ -"  
  
Sam didn't stop to think; reaching underneath his tunic, he pulled out an iron bar and swung it at Nimueh, the iron causing her spirit to disperse like every other ghost he'd encountered, before he turned to strike Morgana in the head with the same bar. As she hit the ground, Sam raised the bar in preparation for another attack, but he only had time to confirm that Morgana was out of it before he felt something pin him to the floor, a thump alongside him all the evidence he needed that Dean was in a similar position.  
  
" _That was_ not _a very intelligent thing to do_ ," Nimueh said, glaring at the two brothers as Castiel suddenly fell to his knees behind her, the angel still holding on to the Cup despite the obvious unease on his face at its current behaviour (Obvious by Castiel's usual range of expressions, anyway; on anyone else the expression would have appeared to be merely slightly perturbed). " _I did not go to all the trouble of influencing her_ -"  
  
"You _what_?" Sam asked, looking back at the ghost-witch above him in shock despite the increasingly-uncomfortable pressure she was exerting on the rest of his body.  
  
" _You did not think that all that Morgana has done was solely the result of her own choice, did you_?" Nimueh said, looking at Sam with a smile. " _She was bitter about the treatment of those with magic, but she lacked the nerve to do what was necessary to avenge us_ …"  
  
"Hold on, are you saying that _you're_ the reason she went all… psycho like that?" Sam asked, looking between the solidifying Nimueh and the unconscious Morgana.  
  
"Huh?" Dean said, looking over at Sam in confusion. "What's all this about; I thought Morgana just snapped because she got sick of feeling like a pariah because she had magic-?"  
  
"I spent some time talking with some of the other knights at Camelot," Sam explained grimly, his gaze fixed accusingly on Nimueh as she stood and smiled while Castiel seemed to find it increasingly difficult just to stand up. "And according to everyone I spoke to, Morgana was once a very compassionate person who spoke out against killing people because they _might_ have magic and rejected Uther's cruelty; does that really seem like the kind of person who'd shoot arrows into a crowd of innocent people to make a point to the knights whose only crime is not automatically following her orders?"  
  
" _All I did was take what was already there and increase it so that she would make the appropriate decisions_ ," Nimueh said, smiling over at the younger brother. " _It took a while, of course, and I had to make sure that Morgause was unaware of my influence- she honestly feels that she alone converted Morgana to side with her; Morgana was too attached to the 'innocents' of Camelot to do what had to be done on her own-, but now, even Morgana herself is unaware of what I have done_ …"  
  
"You _do_ know that Morgana's nearly destroyed Camelot's innocents, right?" Sam asked, looking sceptically at the ghost before them. "I can understand wanting Uther to pay for what he did, but why drag the rest of the city into it?"  
  
" _A necessary sacrifice to ensure that Uther's reign is ended_ ," Nimueh said grimly. " _With Uther and Arthur gone, Morgana will be queen, and magic will be restored to Camelot_ -"  
  
"By _force_ because Morgana killed everyone who might have disagreed with her; that's not exactly proving Uther wrong, you know!" Sam retorted.  
  
" _Your opinion is not important_ ," Nimueh said, looking at him with a malevolent gleam in her eye. " _Morgana_ will _become Queen… and, now that I have the power of the Celestial behind me_ -"  
  
A gun went off and a bullet struck the Cup's stem just below where Castiel's thumb was, the force of the impact knocking it out of the angel's hand despite his earlier tight grip on it. As soon as the Cup had left Castiel's grip, the glow faded and Nimueh seemingly vanished, leaving the two hunters and one angel present staring at the spot where she had once been.  
  
"Sorry, _bitch_ ," Dean spat, glaring at the Cup out of a lack of anything else to glare at. "Might be able to let you off on the corruption front, given that you're dead and warped and all, but _nobody_ uses Cas as some… angelic battery!"  
  
Sam was trying not to think about the fact that they had just shot at the _Holy Grail_ ; he knew that Cas hadn't exactly explained its full connection to Jesus, but even if he didn't have a high opinion of God since the Apocalypse, that didn't mean he was totally comfortable with his brother shooting the Cup of Christ…  
  
"Sam," Castiel said, looking over at the younger Winchester as he reached over to sketch a symbol on the dust below them that Sam recognised vaguely as Enochian, the blood on his wrist where the bullet had struck already fading. "Use your blood and write this on the Cup."  
  
"Why don't-?" Sam began, before he stopped himself; if what had just happened was any indication, if Cas touched the Cup all that would happen would be Nimueh trying the whole 'angelic battery' thing all over again. Pulling out a knife, Sam cut his left hand and then dipped his right forefinger in the blood, quickly scrawling the sigil onto the side of the cup, watching it glow for a moment before he looked back at the angel. "What did that do?"  
  
"It will bind Nimueh to the Cup and prevent her from manifesting," Castiel explained. "It will not last long, but it will suffice for what I have to do."  
  
With that comment made, Castiel picked up the Cup in both hands and held it in front of him- Sam wondered if he was the only one thinking of _The Lion King_ right now-, before he began to rapidly chant under his breath. For a moment, as the Cup started to glow again, Sam wondered if Nimueh was drawing power from his friend again, but then the glow faded away, followed by a brief scream as something drifted away from the Cup, Sam only just managing to glimpse what looked like Nimueh's face amid the thin smoke before it had vanished.  
  
"It is done," Castiel said, lowering his arm and smiling slightly over at the Winchesters. "The spirit of Nimueh has been sent on, and the Cup is now free of her influence."  
  
"Uh… cool?" Dean said, looking uncertainly at Castiel.  
  
"Does that… impact anything we were going to do?" Sam asked.  
  
"Nimueh possessing the Cup was an unforeseen side-effect of her long connection to it as a priestess of the Old Religion, but it was not completely unanticipated; the ritual that I am to teach Merlin will still be valid," Castiel replied, before he walked over to Morgana and Morgause, kneeling down to place his hands on their foreheads for a moment before he stood up.  
  
"You're not healing them?" Sam asked, noting the burns still present on Morgause's face.  
  
"Morgause's injuries are a part of history- she is destined to die of them soon-, but I must ensure that they do not remember this encounter," Castiel explained. "As far as they are concerned, they simply never re-discovered the Cup of Life after Merlin knocked it over during the fight for Camelot and Morgause's injuries were the result of that fight; it is simpler this way."  
  
"Ah," Sam said, trying not to wince at the sight of the damage on the right side of Morgause's face (Did it look worse now than it had earlier?) before he turned around to walk back to Merlin with the others, the Cup in Castiel's hands.  
  
"Was that-?" Merlin began, standing up as he looked uncertainly at the group.  
  
"I will explain when you have completed the task we requested your aid for," Castiel said, holding the Cup out in front of him with one hand as he placed the other hand on Merlin's fore head. For a moment, Merlin's eyes glowed a brilliant white that reminded Dean of what had happened when he'd stabbed Zachariah, but then the glow faded, leaving Merlin to look solemnly at the Cup.  
  
"What-?" Dean began.  
  
"He shared his knowledge with me to tell me what I needed to do," Merlin said, looking at the other two hunters with a brief smile before he turned his attention back to the Cup. Holding up his hands, the warlock paused for a moment before he began to chant under his breath, his hands glowing as they reached out towards the Cup in the angel's hands. The chanting continued for a few moments, the Winchesters looking at the warlock in silence as Castiel simply stared at him, until he lowered his hands, leaving the Cup with a brief glow of its own before that faded away as well.  
  
"It's done," Merlin said, looking back at the two brothers with a smile.  
  
"Thank you," Castiel said, before he reached up to place his fingers on Merlin's forehead, the warlock's eyes widening in momentary confusion before he fell over.  
  
"Hey!" Dean said, catching Merlin before he could hit the ground. "What the _Hell_ did you just do to him, Cas?"  
  
"I have rendered him unconscious and removed his memory of these events," Castiel said, looking solemnly at the two Winchesters. "As far as Merlin is concerned, he accompanied us to the outskirts of Camelot because we wished to give him a few… pointers, I believe is the term… about dealing with some of the creatures that we have encountered in our hunts, decided to take advantage of the opportunity to rest after we parted company, and that is all."  
  
"That's it?" Sam said, looking at Castiel in surprise.  
  
"Yes," Castiel said, looking down at the Cup in his hands before he suddenly vanished, remaining absent for a few moments until he reappeared once again. "The Cup is where it should be; we can go now."  
  
With that comment, Castiel placed his hands on Sam and Dean's shoulders…

* * *

After the familiar disconcerting sensation of being teleported anywhere had faded, Sam was relieved to find himself standing amid the familiar stains and tatters of Bobby's living room.  
  
He might partly regret having to leave the friends they'd been tentatively making in Camelot so abruptly, but Sam was glad to be back home.  
  
"We're home?" Dean said, looking at their surroundings before directing an indignant glare at their angelic ally. "Cas, why'd you just drag us away like that? I don't care about historical fact; we could've _wasted_ that bitch-"  
  
"The conflict between Merlin and Morgana is too important to too many events that will occur in the intervening centuries for me to risk erasing it completely," Castiel said, his expression still solemn as he looked at the brothers. "They will have many battles after our time with them, and it is important to ensure that they do not remember what took place here; questions will be asked that neither of them can answer without risking changes being made to what has gone before."  
  
"And… what about what Nimueh said about her having corrupted Morgana?" Sam asked, looking uncertainly at the angel as his own concerns about altering history occurred to him. "I mean… if we exorcised Nimueh-"  
  
"Nimueh only amplified what was already there, and now that the hatred has emerged, attempted to suppress it would be like attempting to force a plant back into a seed; Nimueh's loss will change nothing ," Castiel explained grimly. "Morgana's moral transformation was the result of her influence, but what she has become cannot be repaired; she has made too many choices under the influence of the spell to ever be what she once was; the spell had already had such an impact on her that there is no longer any distinction between what she has done under its influence and what she will do on her own."  
  
"What the _Hell_ …?" a familiar voice said, the Winchesters and Castiel turning around to see Bobby looking at them with an air of absolute exhaustion about him. "You're back?"  
  
"And knighted," Dean said, smiling at the older man before bowing slightly. "Sir Dean and Sir Samuel de Chester of Camelot, at your service."  
  
"What?" Bobby said, looking at Dean incredulously. "You're tellin' me someone _knighted_ you two-?"  
  
"Uh, could we… see about destroying the Cup first?" Sam asked, looking awkwardly at the older hunter- the knighthood thing was cool, but it wasn't like they could use it anywhere- before looking back at Dean and Castiel. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather that was just dealt with before we started talking about… _that_."  
  
"Agreed," Castiel said, before he reached into his pocket and pulled out two blades that reminded Sam of Castiel's usual angel blade, except for being shorter and darker, which he tossed over to the Winchesters. "You will need these; I forged them with Kilgharrah's assistance last night."  
  
"They'll help destroy the Cup?" Dean asked, testing the new blade with a couple of casual swings.  
  
"They will," Castiel confirmed. "Merlin has begun the ritual to break the power of the Cup; once it is struck with these blades, infused with the power of the dragons and my own energy, its power will cease and nobody else will be able to use the Cup of Life ever again."  
  
"Cool," Dean said, looking at the angel with a smile. "So, where to?"  
  
Sam supposed he shouldn't have been completely surprised when Castiel reached up to place his hands on their shoulders again…


	13. The End of the Cup

"Damnit, Cas!" Dean said, looking over indignantly at the angel as they reappeared on a mountainside, a cave just visible a short distance up the hill from their current position and the sun setting in the distance. "You couldn't have just _told_ us where to go?"

"The time when the ritual may be performed is this night, and we did not have the time to travel here by more conventional means if we were going to stop it; I concluded that this was a scenario where it is easier to take action than wait and explain," Castiel explained.

"Sending us in to a nest of demons without any chance to prepare is _easier_ than giving us time?" Dean asked, glaring in frustration at his friend; he would have expected this stunt from the Cas who'd dragged him out of Hell, not the Cas who'd helped them take out Famine and the Whore…

"You are both already armed from our time in Camelot and they will not be expecting an attack at this time; they have no reason to believe that I would be this aware of the Cup's current circumstances, and they are more intellectual than powerful compared to the demons you are used to facing," Castiel explained. "It has only been a few hours since we originally went to Camelot, and the demons only completed their work on corrupting the Cup a short while before I came to you; the rituals to corrupt it were in progress before I was aware that it was in peril, but there is still time for us prevent them completing the rituals that will allow them to channel the Cup's power to the extent required for the plans I described."

"So… we act now and deal with them while they're weak or we're up against a bunch of Azazel-level bad guys that we maybe can't kill with the anti-demon weapons?" Sam asked, allowing Castiel to nod in confirmation before he looked over at Dean with a resigned sigh and pulled out the dragon-forged angel blade that Castiel had given them. "Well, we'd better get on with this…"

"Yeah," Dean said, drawing his own dragon-blade with one hand while checking his gun before leaving it in his other hand. "Like you said, sooner the better, eh?"

"Just one thing, Cas," Sam said, looking curiously at the angel. "How _did_ you know about what they were up to with the Cup so quickly?"

"I have been tracking the lost heavenly weapons with some assistance from Balthazar; he took some of the armoury, but the Cup was one of many items that were mislaid long ago," Castiel explained, before he actually shrugged in a slightly awkward manner that put Sam in mind of the angel's reaction to Chuck's work. "It is a… personal interest of mine."

"You're a fan of the legends it's acquired?" Sam said, looking at the angel in surprise.

"It represents your drive to go beyond what you know and seek the aid of higher powers without placing yourself above them or making yourself dependent on them," Castiel said, before his eyes narrowed as he glanced up at the cave he had previously indicated. "They are coming; use the blades I have given you to kill them, and you will prevail."

With those words, the angel vanished, leaving the Winchesters to draw their guns to accompany their blades- it might be a superficial gesture, but it made them feel better-, and charge towards the indicated cave.

Neither of them might like how quickly they'd been dropped into this, but the quicker they had it dealt with, the sooner they could get back to more regular hunts that didn't involve such large-scale consequences.

* * *

Most of the time, Dean hated Enochian wards; not only did they deprive him and Sam of one of their best allies- the other angels he'd met might be mostly dicks, but right now he'd probably be willing to deal with Zachariah again if it meant having back-up-, but they couldn't even _see_ the damn things to scrawl over them and render them useless.  
  
On the brighter side, however, as two men emerged from the cave with the black eyes that clearly indicated a demonic presence, they did have another advantage he hadn't considered; since the demons had been warding against angels in such a remote area, they'd probably never considered even the possibility that they'd be attacked by _anybody_ , even if humans probably didn't really 'rank' as a threat to people scared of angels. As a result, the demons attacking them did such an amateurish job of their assault that it was relatively easy for Dean and Sam to shoot them both in the heads as they charged towards the brothers, the force of the shots sending the demons to the ground long enough for the Winchesters to stab them with the blades that Castiel had given them.  
  
After pausing a moment to ensure that there was no sign that anyone else had noticed them, Dean and Sam advanced further into the cave, but it didn't take them long to discover the end, which had been carved out into a significantly larger room than the corridor leading up to it suggested. At least half the size of the main hall in Camelot, the end of the cave had various carvings on the walls and an ornate table stood in the middle of the room. The Cup of Life held pride of place in the centre of the table, slightly tarnished but otherwise apparently unaged since they had seen it in Camelot over a thousand years ago/a couple of hours ago (Time travel; the damn thing was apparently complicated mathematically and obviously murder on the tenses), surrounded by around six demons dressed in long dark robes; the shadows might conceal more, but it couldn't be more than four others if they were.  
  
It was a small group considering what they were trying to do, but given how chatty demons tended to be- Ruby and Lilith had kept their plan between them for a reason, after all- Dean assumed that they were keeping this whole thing quiet to ensure that nobody blabbed before they were ready; he and Sam probably wouldn't even know what they knew if Cas hadn't been looking for the Cup.  
  
"Hi there," Dean said, grinning as the demons turned to look at the new arrivals in shock, the brothers aiming their guns at the demons with one hand while holding their blades in the other. "Sorry to but in, but we're going to need that Cup."  
  
"You cannot stop us-!" one of the demons began to yell, only to halt his sentence as he yanked another demon into his path when Dean hurled the blade towards his foe, the other demon taking the blade in his back and collapsing with the familiar spark and smoke that represented a demon dying in its meatsuit.  
  
Cursing his bad luck- it had been a risky move, but he'd really hoped the element of surprise would be enough-, Dean allowed Sam to take point with his own blade while he pulled out Ruby's old knife, grateful that he'd been the one carrying it rather than Sam, Sam taking out two demons as they charged him before Dean was armed with a useful weapon once again. At the sound of chanting, Dean glanced back at the Cup and saw that the demon he'd nearly stabbed was chanting something over it- his brief theory about that guy being the leader was looking increasingly more likely-, but he didn't have time to think about it before his attention had to return to the demons attacking them.  
  
With numbers working against them, Dean quickly traded his gun for a flask of holy water in one of his inside pockets and began to toss it around, smiling as the demons retreated with agonised hisses; these guys might have been smart enough to find the Holy Grail, but they clearly lacked a lot in terms of demonic power. With the demons distracted by the pain of the burns, Dean switched his focus back to the blade and began to slash out with it, slicing through the throats of a couple of attacking demons before they could get away. Risking a glance, he was pleased to see that Sam had picked up his previously-thrown blade and was using it in conjunction with his own weapon, stabbing two demons in the heart with relative ease. With those demons down, Dean quickly turned to face the table where the Cup was located, his eyes quickly falling on the last demon standing.  
  
"You can't stop us!" the apparent lead demon said once again, grinning maliciously at them as he stood beside the Cup, his hands raised above it with a blade in one held over the palm of the other, clearly preparing to release his blood into the Cup. "The Ritual is almost complete-!"  
  
"Too bad 'almost' doesn't count, asshole!" Dean yelled, pulling out his gun once more and firing it at the demon once again. The demon didn't seem to react to the first bullet as it struck him in the chest, but subsequent shots forced him further and further back from the Cup, inch by inch, until he had backed his way almost completely up to where Sam had sneaked up behind their enemy. Still dazed by the bullets despite their relative uselessness against him, the demon was unprepared for Sam stabbing him in the back with the blade, the meatsuit collapsing to the ground as Sam yanked the knife out.  
  
"Huh," Sam said, looking down at the body before he glanced back at Dean. "That was… actually rather simple."  
  
"No wonder they wanted the Grail; probably figured they'd never get any respect if they didn't get a boost," Dean said, shrugging dismissively at the fallen enemy before he looked back at Sam as he picked up his dragon-forged blade and indicated the central table. "Shall we?"  
  
Nodding in agreement, Sam walked over to the table with Dean close behind him, the two Winchesters taking up position on either side of it. Raising his blade, Dean exchanged a brief glance with his brother before they both brought their weapons down on the Cup. The blades cut through the Cup like it was made of butter, severing the top part of it away from the stem without any real sense of resistance. The blades themselves seemed to dissolve as soon as they'd parted company with the Cup- Dean wondered if that was a design flaw or just the consequence of destroying something like this-, but the Cup remained separate as Sam and Dean looked at it, the stem standing on the table while the top lay alongside it, showing no sign that it was going to come back together.  
  
"Whoa…" Sam said, looking over at Dean after a moment's silence. "We just destroyed the Holy Grail…"  
  
"Yeah…" Dean said, looking solemnly at the Cup's shattered remnants before he looked over at Sam with a smile. "Well, we just wrecked an ancient relic, but on the bright side, we _did_ get knighted by King Arthur."  
  
"He wasn't a king yet, Dean; Uther was still alive, remember?" Sam pointed.  
  
"The guy was catatonic and virtually useless; Artie was king and that's that," Dean said, looking firmly at his brother.  
  
"Our lives are _really_ weird," Sam said, looking reflectively out of the cave.  
  
Regardless of his casual manner, Dean couldn't quite believe what they'd just gone through himself; travelled back in time to a location that was meant to be myth, worked with the most legendary warriors of all time, met the most powerful wizard to ever exist, and discovered and destroyed a relic that was meant to have belonged to Jesus Christ himself (Even if Cas had admitted that Jesus was a bit more complicated than what they knew)…  
  
"And now they're gone," Sam said suddenly.  
  
"Huh?" Dean said, looking at Sam in confusion.  
  
"The knights," Sam clarified, glancing down at his attire. "We just fought alongside them a few days ago… and they've been dead for centuries."  
  
"Yeah, but people _remember_ them," Dean said, looking at Sam with an encouraging smile. "How many people can you say that about a millennium after they're dead?"  
  
"I know, it's just… it's _weird_ , you know?" Sam said, sighing as he looked down at the remains of the Cup of Life. "All that effort to break a cup…"  
  
Dean was aware that they'd need to call for Castiel to get them back to Bobby's soon- among other things, he was looking forward to using a toilet that didn't smell like animals had been in it as well-, but he'd worry about that later; right now, like Sam, he wanted to spend a few moments reflecting on the people they'd just met.  
  
Sometimes, being a hunter gave you nothing but crap, trolling through the underbelly of the world to deal with the kind of monsters the rest of the world had nightmares about as kids, but sometimes, every so often, you got the opportunity to see something that was actually kind of cool.  
  
The moment when he'd learned that angels were real might have been questionable in the aftermath, but Dean knew for a fact that _nothing_ was going to take away his sense of wonder at having had the opportunity to become a knight of Camelot…

* * *

As he sat in the part of Heaven that had become his private sanctuary since his return, Castiel pondered his recent mission.  
  
He had disliked having to deceive Sam and Dean about his intentions during this mission, but the deception was necessary; explaining how he intended to use the power of the Cup in his war against Raphael would have taken too long, and it was easier to simply seek their aid in destroying it and take everything else from there.  
  
It wasn't like he had been lying about the dangers that the Cup could pose after the rituals that the demons had performed on it and his inability to trust any of the other angels with its safety; he'd just exaggerated the scale of the damage that the ritual had done. Theoretically, he could have performed a counter-ritual to turn it back to its original purpose, but he lacked the time to purify the Cup on his own, and there were too many other things going on for him to find other angels that he could trust to help him do it.  
  
Even the ritual that he'd provided for them hadn't done exactly what he had said it would do. While the ritual that Merlin had begun in the past with his aid had allowed him to weaken the Cup of Life to the point where it could be destroyed, the blades that he had provided for Sam and Dean had actually been linked to him through the connection forged through his power being channelled into them while Kilgharrah breathed on them, with the result that, when the Cup's physical form had been destroyed, its power had passed into him, rather than simply dispersing so that it could be eventually restored like it had when Merlin had killed Nimueh.  
  
He hadn't liked having to do something like that to one of Heaven's most precious relics, but it was necessary to ensure his continued ability to operate as an angel. With things in heaven becoming ever more unstable, he would need additional reserves of power to call upon if he should be cut off from Heaven like he had been last year, particularly if Raphael gained further power, and if that meant taking the power of an ancient relic to sustain himself…  
  
It wouldn't be completely smooth, but this way he'd be able to maintain his 'access' to Heaven's resources without actually needing to be a full part of the heavenly host; even if they tried to kick him out again, he'd have access to the power reserves needed to retain his full range of abilities.  
  
The loss of the Cup of Life was a shame, but it would all be worth it once Heaven was stable and Raphael could no longer attempt to start the Apocalypse all over again.  
  
Sam and Dean would understand when everything was over…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it; Sam and Dean's time in Camelot has concluded, the Cup has been destroyed, and I've achieved my goal of writing a crossover that's in canon with both shows; hope you liked it.
> 
> To those who might want a sequel, I have an idea in mind, but I'm saving it for later; I've got other things I'd like to get through first…


End file.
